If only
by writer1900
Summary: If only Harry had had a different life. One where he could stop the pain of his first eleven years and run away, to start a whole new life somewhere completely different. If only he had been able to go to a different magical school, one where Voldemort couldn't find him until he was ready to be found. What if it had been that way? If only... Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
1. Chapter 1

Harry sat in his cupboard, tears stinging his eyes, but the stinging was nothing compared to the dull, throbbing ache in his stomach where Dudley had had eight people punch him, all in the same spot. **Eight people! **Harry lay down on the hard wooden floor and pulled off his glasses so he could rub the tears out of his eyes. Every single one of those people was so much bigger than he was; it was completely unfair! Harry choked back a sob, afraid to wake his aunt and uncle. They could be so scary, he was only seven years old but that didn't stop them from locking him in a cupboard so he had nowhere to run!

Harry always felt most frightened when he had nowhere to run, and he bet Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia knew it too. Harry sat up as his eyes narrowed in anger, frustration but mostly hurt. Especially in his stomach. Harry looked down at it, he knew it would be useless as it was pitch black in the cupboard now that his lightbulb had run out, but he felt the need to at least try and see the damage.

Honestly, though, how could Uncle Vernon have blamed it on him? Dudley got mad at Harry because he was reading a book, a book meant for children in middle school maybe, on mathematics, but just because Harry was smart and happened to like math, it didn't mean that Dudley should get eight people to all punch him in the same spot!

And when the two of them came home, Vernon punished Harry for doing something that would make Dudley feel stupid! Then, to top it off, he called Aunt Petunia, who came home from her bridge club with an armload of treats and new toys for Dudley, and a rock for Harry. Then Harry had had to make everyone dinner, despite hardly being able to breathe, wasn't allowed to eat anything except for one glass of water, and got locked in his cupboard without even a new lightbulb!

Harry trembled in anger, his little-kid fists balled up as tight as they could go. He raised his fist to in front of his face, but he still couldn't see it. The blackness was overpowering. Harry's breathing suddenly got shallow with fear when he realized how dark it truly was. With his clenched fist still raised, more now out of fear, he desperately wished for light.

And suddenly there was. Harry blinked and fell backwards, hitting his head. "Ow," he muttered despite himself. He reached to rub his head when he realized the light was following his hand. Or, wait, no - _the light was coming from his hand!_

Slowly, Harry used his other hand to put his glasses back on. Then, dizzy, he leaned back against the wall. All of a sudden the pain in his stomach seemed to go away, probably from shock. Afraid he would faint, and that the Dursleys would hear him and find him passed out with his hand glowing, Harry decided he needed to distract himself _now, _and then in a few minutes or so when he was calm again he would figure out 1) what was going on and 2) how to get his hand to stop glowing.

So Harry did what he always did when his emotions became too much: he pulled out his 7 year mathematics book. Harry especially liked that one because _he _was seven and so was the book... kind of. But to his seven-year-old self, it was enough.

Harry liked mathematics because everything was so orderly. First you do this, then that, then this, and then you have the answer by doing this. He liked how once you had a formula mastered, you could apply it to any situation and follow the same steps and get the right answer. Especially since his life was so hectic and unpredictable, full of hurt and other bad feelings... well, Harry liked the robotic-ness of doing the same thing over and over again but with variations to the numbers and formulas. Mainly, though, Harry just liked the puzzles, and figuring things out.

So Harry did a few math problems in his head, using his glowing hand as a guide to read the questions, and when the beating in his chest slowed and the dizziness went away, Harry contentedly decided that it was time to figure out the biggest puzzle of all: what was going on, and how could he control it?

Harry decided that the first thing he should tackle was to fix the problem at hand. Just like BEDMAS, which he had been doing in the book, if he worked out the small things, like the brackets and the exponents, everything else would fall into place.

So Harry decided to trace his steps. What had he been doing when his hand first lit up? He had been trying to look at it. Why? Because he wanted to see it. Why? Because he was afraid of the dark and wanted to see and be in control of all of his senses.

And there it was. _Harry _had lit up his own hand because he had _wanted to do it. _Which meant that if he wanted the light to go off, then all he would have to do was _want it to go off._

Harry raised his glowing hand to in front of his face, just like he had before, and he willed his hand to turn off. Nothing. He tried harder. And harder. Harry began to get frustrated. His hand clenched into a fist. Obviously, he had done it before, why couldn't he do it now?

Then Harry began to get scared. What if he could never turn it off? What if, tomorrow morning the Dursleys came downstairs and saw his hand glowing like this? If they could punish him for reading a book, he could only imagine what they would do to him for something like _this. _Then Harry thought about how unfair that was. He hadn't meant for this to happen! And all he had been doing was reading a book! Why did the Dursleys punish him for every single thing he did?!

As all the emotions inside of Harry began to build up, Harry began to think he might explode. His head was spinning and his face was hot, his fist was so clenched that his entire hand was white and his whole arm was trembling with tension.

Then suddenly it became pitch dark again. Harry felt his pupils dilate and looked around in shock. The dark was overpowering, but before Harry could get scared again, he felt something quite pleasant coursing through his veins. He tried to put his finger on it.

It wasn't adrenaline, though that was there too, and it wasn't joy, he didn't think, but he couldn't be sure... Then he had it. It was power. Harry smiled. He no longer needed to be afraid of the dark - he could create his own light! Maybe next he could make his whole body light up! Or maybe he could change the colour of his hair! Or maybe he could fly! Or change his shape! Or change something else's shape! Maybe he could do anything!

Harry tingled with excitement, but he forced himself to calm down. He still had the rest of the puzzle to figure out, and he hadn't quite mastered the equation right. He forced himself to think over what just happened, how he had just not only willed himself to light up, but also willed himself to stop lighting up. And each time he had done it, there had been intense, multiple emotions running through his system.

If he could do that, it must mean that he had some sort of power inside him that he had unlocked with overwhelming emotion. But he had felt overwhelming emotion before, hadn't he? Had anything like this happened to him all of the other times?

Instantly, he thought no, he hadn't, but then he realized he actually had done things like this before. There was the time when Dudley was chasing him and Harry had somehow found himself on the roof, where Dudley and his gang couldn't reach. And that time Aunt Petunia had decided to cut off all of his hair except for one lock covering his scar on his forehead. He had terrified of the tormenting he would endure, and also angry at Aunt Petunia for doing that to him when he went to bed that night, but when he woke up all of his hair was back, messy and unkempt as always.

Harry could list more, many more times like those in his mind, but all of a sudden he was extremely tired. He decided he would experiment some more in the morning. After all, it was a saturday. Harry fell into a deep, happy sleep where he dreamed of having magical powers where he could do and control whatever he wanted. He dreamed of doing all of the things the Dursleys had ever done to him, only _they _couldn't change it because _they _didn't have the magic, and he did.

Harry was very happy when he woke up the next morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Sorry everyone, this chapter is kinda slow. I'm still trying to figure out the plot and where I want the story to go, so by next chapter hopefully things will be more interesting.**

That saturday morning, Harry was awoken by Dudley stomping up and down the stairs, which shook the cupboard and shook sawdust and splinters into his eyes. Normally, this would put Harry in a foul mood, but today, he only smiled as he daydreamed of the day he could levitate Dudley up the stairs and through the roof. Harry giggled to himself at the thought of that.

Eventually, Uncle Vernon opened the cupboard and Harry made breakfast for everyone else before finally sitting down to eat his first meal in at least sixteen hours. His stomach hurt out of hunger and leftover pain from the day before.

Harry was so happy that he even had enough courage to ask Aunt Petunia for a new lightbulb, who said he could have one as long as he changed all of the other dead lightbulbs too, to which Harry gladly agreed to and perkily carried out.

Finally, at around 10:30, Harry was allowed to go outside. Harry wasn't sure where to start with his newfound discovery, so he decided on his favourite place in the world: the public library.

Harry spent so much time in the public library that the librarian had even let Harry have a few books to keep, for free, to keep himself busy while he was away from the library (which he rarely was when he had a spare moment).

Harry usually spent his entire weekends there, as Dudley would never dare enter a library to avoid having his mind poisoned by all of the "nerdiness" he said there was. Harry really thought it was because Dudley couldn't yet read, and was embarrassed.

Which he should be. After all, Dudley was seven too. Harry could read. And write. And do complex arithmetic. Dudley could barely even hold a pencil properly.

When Harry got to the library, he was greeted kindly by the usual people there. There was the old, deaf man who sat by the door and watched the world, who had taught Harry sign language when he was five so they could communicate. Harry greeted the man, who smiled gently and told Harry that he wished there were more children like him in the world.

While normally Harry would have loved to stay and chat, as he loved the elderly man's stories, today he needed to figure something out, so he moved on.

He then greeted the college girl who was trying to come up with some sort of complicated medical breakthrough so she could earn a scholarship and become a research doctor. Her name was Vanessa, and she was the one who had taught Harry anatomy, basic science of all kinds, how to read and do math, basically everything Harry could and loved to learn about.

Vanessa, luckily, was busy that day, so Harry didn't have to turn down her conversation as well. Then there were the two high school friends, who had "matured" Harry with language and with things Harry would have preferred not to know about, like how babies are made, but at least the two boys liked him.

Finally, Harry made his way to the librarian, who smiled broadly when she noticed him. Harry smiled shyly back and blushed. People rarely smiled at Harry, so he always felt incredibly nice when they did.

"Hello Harry, I was wondering when you were going to show," The librarian bantered kindly. Harry smiled fully now, he couldn't help but love the librarian as a mother, as she was the closest thing he had to a loving feminine figure.

"Yes, I woke up late this morning and so I didn't leave until later," Harry replied, smile fading a little. He hated lying to the librarian.

"Really," The librarian gave Harry a quick, pointed look, and Harry had no doubt that she knew Harry was not being truthful with her. Then her lovely smile returned. "Well, luckily enough for you, I decided to keep the place open today."

Harry giggled a little, the joke itself wasn't that funny, but Harry didn't care. He just liked having someone who wanted to make him smile.

At his adorable seven-year-old giggle the librarian's smile grew even more, and she reached over to ruffle Harry's hair. Harry grinned back up and the bubbly happiness he had been feeling all day swelled in his chest.

"Is there a book you wanted to read today, or are you just going to sit in a corner and stare at the wall?"

Then Harry remembered what he was doing there. "Um, yes, actually. I was wondering if you had any books on the history of magic, maybe?" As the words left his lips, Harry realized how stupid that sounded. Magic wasn't supposed to exist! Why would there be a history on it?

"Well, we do have plenty of stories about wizards and magic," Even as she said it, though, the librarian, seemed to know he didn't mean children's fantasy novels.

Strangely enough, she beckoned for him to follow her and guided him to a back corner of the library that Harry hadn't even known existed.

She sat Harry down at an empty chair by an empty, old wooden table. Then she leaned down and whispered, "Every now and then, some strange fellow will wander in asking a question related to magic who seems the least likely to read fiction novels. I have no idea what they actually want, but here is a place for you to do things other people probably shouldn't know about."

The librarian smiled as she spoke, and when she finished, she gave a little wink before standing and walking off without another word, leaving a very confused Harry sitting at an empty table in the corner.


	3. Chapter 3

Two hours later, Harry still had no idea why he could do what he could do, but he could do a lot more of it now.

After the librarian had left, Harry had scoured the empty corner for any hint of books or other information, but in the end, he had come to the conclusion that the librarian really didn't know what the other people who had come before him were doing there.

However, Harry was still hopeful, because now he had a small idea in the back of his mind. If there were other people coming who were just like him, that must mean that there was a whole community of people just like him! Maybe, just maybe, there was another world, full of what Harry had decided must be magic! And maybe, just maybe, Harry could find a place in that world where he belonged.

So, heart beating, Harry had gotten to work. First, he made sure he could still light up his hand (and turn it off again, of course.) After trying fruitlessly for about seven minutes, Harry wondered if maybe last night he had only been dreaming. When the intense sadness filled him like nothing before ever had, he got scared that he would never find a place to belong. As soon as the first tear fell, with Harry yearning and wishing for it to be true, but completely sure that it wasn't, his hand lit up in a yellow glow.

Harry was shocked, but over the moon with happiness. It _was _true! Overjoyed, Harry wondered what had happened. He remembered the night before, when he had figured out that the magic happened to help him out whenever he was feeling intense negative emotion.

But what if, Harry thought, it didn't need to be negative? What if Harry could control the magic with _positive _emotion too?

Hope filled Harry, which he clung to so he could use it. Staring at his hand, Harry wondered what else he could do if he tried.

He could already light up his hand, to help with the dark in the cupboard, but what else could he use to help him out while the Dursleys tortured him?

Harry thought back to his daydream about being able to levitate Dudley. Could it be possible for him to do that?

Heart beating with hope, as well as a sense of lightness and humour from the image of Dudley being thrown up the stairs by invisible power, Harry thought he could do it. He just needed something to practice on.

Only, all that he had with him here was himself, the chair he was on, and... _the table. _Harry suddenly felt extremely powerful at the thought of lifting the table with his mind.

He decided that now, now that he had three incredibly powerful positive emotions running through him, was the perfect time to try. Harry took his arms off the table and stared at it, willing, wishing, hoping for it to work.

Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins. Harry felt like he was about to explode. His head was throbbing, his heart was pounding, and he could hear the blood in his ears and feel its heat as it ran through his body. He was trembling; even hurting, still hoping and wishing and willing and praying and _hoping _when suddenly - it lifted.

Harry almost lost his focus out of shock when he saw the table begin to rise off of the ground, but he wanted to see how far he could go.

Bringing back all of the emotions, and now there were thousands of them at the realization of actually being able to lift the table. _With his mind!_

As harry watched, and focused, and sent his emotions from his brain into the table, the table rose, and rose, and rose, and rose. Soon it was higher than Harry, and the longer he let it rise, the easier it became to float it.

Harry's heart stopped pounding quite so hard, and his head stopped hurting, and he wasn't trembling or feeling any strong emotion running through him.

He was simply doing it. It was as though the table and him became one, like the table was an extra hand on an invisible arm of his. He could instantly will the table up, down, sideways, make it loop-de-loop, absolutely anything at all.

Harry felt immensely powerful, and since he already had such good control of the table, he decided to try doing two things at once.

No longer needing the rush of emotions to control his power, Harry focused on the legs of the table. As he focused, he imagined them moving, wriggling and turning, as though they belonged to a spider.

He wriggled his own fingers as an example to the table, as if it could see what he wanted it to do. Harry grinned at the idea of a table with eyes that would do what he did.

But Harry's grin was wiped off of his face when, as soon as he started wriggling his fingers, the table copied him with its legs.

Harry almost dropped the table.

As long as he focused, and imagined, he could control whatever he wanted to, probably! Harry set down the table, as he was beginning to feel tired, and tested out his latest theory.

Before, it had taken him almost ten minutes to light up his hand. Would it still, and would he still need such emotion, or would he be able to do it now as easily as he had been able to control the table?

Harry looked down at his hand, and realized that he had stood up without noticing. He must have used more concentration than he had thought to make the table's legs move.

He sat back down and put his hand on the table. He looked at it, and focused hard on his hand, blocking out everything else in his surroundings. Then, when he felt sufficiently focused, he imagined his hand lighting up.

With his other hand, he also half-subconsciously flicked a few fingers, the same motions one would make while flicking on a light switch.

As he made these motions, his hand lit up. Harry grinned from ear to ear. He could do it! He could control things with his mind just by focusing! How many seven-year-olds could do that!

Satisfied, and surprisingly tired suddenly, Harry decided to call it a day. He walked out back into the main section section of the library and looked at the time. 1:00! He had been here for two hours?

Surprised, but still pleased and a little bit tired, Harry said goodbye to the librarian and walked out, ready to return home and face his tormentors with a new sense of confidence and power.


	4. Chapter 4

That night, as Harry was thrown and locked into his cupboard, all traces of his newfound confidence and happiness was destroyed.

When he had arrived home, Dudley had been shocked and upset to find Harry so happy. When he asked Harry where he had been to be so happy, Harry had simply stated, "the library," and moved to get inside.

Seeing how tired he was, and wanting to make him pay for being happy surrounded by books, Dudley had thrown Harry against a wall and beaten him black and blue. Harry had been too tired, shocked and upset to use his powers to fight back, and was helpless to stop Dudley or do anything other than take it.

Indeed, when he had finally been allowed to go inside, Harry sported freshly broken glasses and what felt like a puffy nose, and felt blood coming from somewhere on his face. His hands were scratched, and his jeans were ripped at the knees, and his bruised stomach from the other day was now also covered in scratches, scraped and bumps as well as new bruises.

When Harry had gone into the bathroom to find a mirror and some tape he kept hidden there, he was even more dismayed. There was blood coming from four places, his lip, his nose, his left ear and the lighting bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, which looked puffed up and raw.

His bright green eyes were watery with tears and one of them was already starting to swell and blacken. His messy black hair was completely ripped out in certain places and knotted and matted in others. One of his teeth was loose, which was probably the most okay out of all of the injuries since it was just a baby tooth, but it still hurt, and there was a bit of blood there as well.

Harry had taken a nice, long, warm shower after that, even though he wasn't supposed to until everyone else had showered at the end of the day, but he had just hurt so much he couldn't resist.

He washed and attempted to de-knot his hair, and tried to avoid the bald patches, which stung from the shampoo, indicating that they were scraped as well. He let the water wash off all of the dried blood from his face and neck, now, too, and he massaged his back, which hurt from being pounded into the wall.

He cleaned out the scrapes to make sure nothing got infected, and then he just stood there relaxing for a minute to try and make the hurt go away and the red puffiness in his eyes disappear.

When he got out, he had taken his measly, pathetic-looking balding towel off of the rack below three fresh, white fluffy towels that hung on a special rack that warmed them as they hung, so that they were always hot when the Dursleys went to dry off.

He dried himself with the towel, which was always cold from being directly above the air vent in the floor, and put on his spare change of clothes, which he kept in the bathroom under the sink. Then he put his towel back on the rack to dry, and gathered up his ripped, bloodstained clothes.

To his dismay, when he exited the washroom, Uncle Vernon was standing there waiting for him. He looked extremely angry, though that was just a guess based on his fat, red face and mouth already opening to yell at poor Harry.

Harry began to tremble with fear, and he could feel the emotions building up inside of him.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" Uncle Vernon screeched at Harry, leaning in nice and close so Harry could smell his onion breath.

"I... um... I was, uh, taking a... shower...?" Harry stuttered, shaking.

Uncle Vernon's face grew even redder and puffier, if that was possible. Or maybe it was just Harry's imagination.

"WHY WERE YOU TAKING A SHOWER?!"

"Because I was hurt, and covered in dirt and blood," Harry began, knowing it wouldn't help. "...And I didn't want to track it through the house and get it dirty...?" Harry lied as smoothly as he could through his fear.

_"_Because_ I didn't want to get the house dirty," _Uncle Vernon imitated, making a puppet with his hand to show Harry's talking.

"**YOU... ARE NOT... SUPPOSED TO SHOWER... ****_UNTIL WE SAY SO! DO YOU UNDERSTAND, BOY?!_**"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry muttered, his fear suddenly being matched by anger and adrenaline. His face began to flush with anger and his heart started to pound. His tiny fists clenched in his pockets so Uncle Vernon couldn't see them.

"GOOD. Now go downstairs and make everyone lunch, and then you will clean the entire house TWICE as punishment. Then you will make everyone dinner, and go to bed. Understand, you pathetic excuse for a child?"

Now Harry was really mad. He hated being name-called, especially for things that weren't his fault. He could feel his head throb and his blood burn as it ran through his system. He was trembling now, not just out of fear but out of anger. He felt as though he would explode unless he found an outlet for his feelings, STAT.

Usually he would do math problems in his head until he was calm, but he couldn't concentrate. He began to get scared at this lack of control over himself.

"**WELL, **BOY? ANSWER ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU!"

"No," Harry murmured quietly, but forcefully, under his breath.

"What did you just say?" Uncle Vernon suddenly stopped yelling and spoke quietly. This was terrifying, much worse than the yelling, because it meant that now Uncle Vernon was cruel mad, not full of hot temper like usual. But Harry couldn't back down now.

"No." He spoke louder, looking up into the eyes of his uncle.

"Excuse me?"

"NO, I won't make lunch and clean the house. All I did was take a shower, because YOUR SON beat me against a wall. You can't think these bruises and cuts and bald patches are from nowhere, or are you that stupid?"

Uncle Vernon's face suddenly changed. His face was so red it was purple, and the scowl on his face was meaner that it had ever been before. His eyes were beyond hate now, they were murder. Harry began to fear for his life.

If they killed him, they could make it look like an accident. Say he had fallen down the stairs, just look at all of those bruises and cuts. They could cry a little, wish it wasn't so to the police, and then get on with their lives. Harry was beginning to doubt the thought that they would never do that, because he was family. He wasn't really family. He was just blood.

"You. Will NEVER. Call me stupid. Again. Understood? No, of course not, you daft little maggot. Let me make it absolutely clear," And for the first time in Harry's life, Uncle Vernon raised a fist and reared back.

With Dudley, Harry could live with his constant beatings. He was only seven, he couldn't cause much more damage than the occasional broken bone. But Vernon, he could do real harm. He could land Harry in the hospital, or worse. Much, much worse.

So Harry, still full of pounding, throbbing fear, and anger, and adrenaline, and hurt, too, because he had just realized that Vernon really didn't care for him, focused his energy on Vernon's fist, and moved his fingers in a slapping motion towards Vernon's face.

The punch that was aimed for Harry turned around just in time and slapped Vernon hard in the nose, rearing his head into the wall.

Vernon tried to move his hand, but couldn't. His hand was under Harry's control. Harry wasn't sadistic. He didn't punch Vernon again, or levitate him, or throw him against the wall. He just held Vernon's fist where it was.

Vernon looked at his hand, then down at the boy, who was still staring at Vernon, especially his hand. And his eyes widened with fear. But Harry noticed something else there, too. Recognition.

Recognition? How had Vernon seen this before? What did he know about Harry that Harry didn't? In shock, Harry lost his focus. As soon as Vernon regained his hand, he grabbed Harry by the collar and dragged him down the stairs.

"_**Don't you DARE. EVER do something like that EVER**_ **_AGAIN_****_!_**" But as angry and forceful as he seemed, Harry could feel him trembling.

Then Vernon threw Harry into his cupboard, took out his lightbulb, and screamed a few more cruel insults again before locking Harry into the darkness of his cupboard.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Sorry, this is kind of a short chapter. The next one will be longer, I promise.**

When Harry awoke, he felt refreshed and regenerated, albeit still in pain from all the bruises and cuts. Harry sighed. Obviously those would take a bit longer to heal than his hair.

But that was okay. Because after what had happened with Vernon and Dudley, he knew he was never going to let anyone hurt him like that, ever again.

Harry listened for clues as to what time it was. He heard the TV getting shut off, and two pairs of heavy footsteps that could only belong to Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He heard them wishing each other a good night and Vernon telling Aunt Petunia to go tuck Dudley into bead.

Harry felt a pang of sadness. No one had ever wanted to tuck _him _into bed. But that was quickly replaced by happiness when he realized what time it was. Vernon and Aunt Petunia never went to bed sooner than 11:00, or later than 11:30.

Which meant it was the perfect time to sneak away unnoticed.

Once he could no longer hear anyone's footsteps, Harry forced himself to count to 600 so that he would give enough time for the Dursleys to go to bed.

At 300 seconds, (he was counting to ten minutes in seconds so that he wouldn't lose track) Harry lit up his hand, still counting. He was pleased to see that it now took him almost no effort and worked instantly.

In his cupboard, Harry silently used the last five minutes to gather up his thin jacket, a pad of paper and a pen, put on his warmest socks and his running shoes, and fifteen euros which he had saved up over the years for emergencies. He knew fifteen euros wouldn't get him very far, but it was all he had what with the Dursleys giving him a quarter every month for his allowance.

He put all of these things in his pocket, and looked at the door. Here was the hard part. Getting out. Harry knew the door was locked, and he also knew how the lock worked.

He stared at the door and finished counting. One minute to go. Harry prepared himself by focusing on the door, and imagining the lock on the other side.

He knew exactly what the lock looked like, as he has stared at it in hatred many times before. He imagined how to open the lock and made the motion with his fingers.

599, 600. It was now or never. Harry focused his energy, his wanting to get out, his hoping and wishing and desperation on the spot on the door where the lock was on the other side.

He imagined the lock opening, imagined really, really hard, and made the motions with his fingers. Harry heard a slight click in the silence.

Holding his breath, fingers tingling in hope, he reached for the door. He turned the handle, slowly to avoid sound, pushed, gently, ever so gently... and... it opened!

He had done it, he had really done it! Harry fought the urge to jump up and shout in exhilaration! That lock, the very lock which had trapped him in his dark cupboard for years to endure, he had finally opened it!

Harry crept out of his cupboard, looking back for one last time. He shined his light on it so he could look in for the very last time. When he noticed his mathematics book. Year 7, it was his favourite!

Harry battled with himself. It wasn't necessary, but he did enjoy it, but it might drag him down, but it would be fun, but it would be heavy, but it would keep him company!

Scolding himself and rolling his eyes, Harry quickly crept back into the cupboard and grabbed the book. He looked at it for a moment before safely tucking it under one arm.

Then, he closed the cupboard and locked the door, making it seem as though he were still asleep inside.

Harry then quietly treaded along the floor towards the kitchen. He knew the back door was not connected to the alarm systems, as the Dursleys believed that no one could get into their backyard. Harry had always thought they were idiots for not realizing that just because _they _were too fat to hop the fence, it didn't mean that no one else could.

But he wasn't complaining; hey, it was his way out of this prison!

As Harry passed through the kitchen, he realized how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. Harry opened the food cabinet and quickly, quietly made himself a sandwich, full of meat and butter and cheese and vegetables.

His mouth watered. Harry had never in his life had a full sandwich like this! He had always gotten two empty slices of bread, the leftovers from the ends of the loaf that nobody wanted.

Harry put the food away, cut his sandwich in half, wrapped it in some plastic he found lying around and folded it into his pocket. Then he grabbed a big jar of peanut butter and a spoon and realized he would not be able to carry all of this.

So, he grabbed a small plastic shopping bag and put in it the peanut butter and the mathematics book, slung the bag over his shoulder, and put the spoon in his pocket.

Then he checked the clock, 11:47, it said, and headed out the door. He wanted to be off of Privet Drive before midnight so that he would have enough time to get far enough away from the Dursleys so they could never, ever find him.

Harry opened the door, walked out, closed the door, hopped the fence, and ran like he never had before down Privet Drive.

He was free.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Sorry, there might not be a lot of magic or adventure in this chapter.**

Harry ran and ran until he couldn't run anymore. Luckily, he wasn't at all sleepy, as he had been sleeping all day in his cupboard. However, eventually he ran out of energy and was forced to rest.

When he finally slowed down, Harry realized that he had no idea where he was. He smelled sea salt and rotten fish, though, so he assumed he was near some sort of harbour. That could be helpful, he thought.

Panting, Harry decided to sit back against a stone wall at the entrance of a nearby alleyway. He wanted to remain out of sight, but still have a back door in case somehow the Dursleys were already after him.

Once he sat down and had time to think, however, Harry realized just how grim his situation was. Frightened, cold, lost, and utterly alone, on the run from his heartless caregivers who had the legal right to take him back and torture him as much as they wanted.

And that was when Harry started to cry.

He tried to keep it quiet, but soon his body was wracked with the sobs a pain no seven-year-old should have to feel. Abused, tortured, orphaned and unwanted, he sat crying for all the right reasons one should be crying for, but all the wrong reasons one should have to be crying for.

Harry didn't know how much time had passed, as he didn't have a watch, but he guessed it was around one in the morning. Harry looked up at the sliver of moon in the sky and began to feel even more hopeless. He buried his face deeper into his hands and cried harder.

Suddenly, Harry felt a warm hand on one shoulder. He jumped, not liking to be touched, as it usually just led to pain.

Afraid to look up, he peeked through his fingers until he could see who was there. What he saw was a kind-looking young lady, smiling gently but with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Let's get you inside, shall we, you're waking up the neighbours," She spoke with a soft irish accent and a sweet, quiet voice.

Harry shook with indecision and fear. Should he trust her? Or was she working for the police? She might have the Dursleys waiting for him in her house. Of course, that was unlikely, but he was only seven, he wasn't supposed to think logically yet.

"Come on, I can't look that mean, can I?" Her smile grew slightly and she moved her hand from his shoulder to ruffle her hair, just like the kind librarian always had.

Harry couldn't help but smile a little bit. He had always liked it when nice people ruffled his hair and tried to make him smile. His heart warmed a little bit. Maybe she _was _just trying to help. And now that he thought about it, he was cold.

"There's that smile," She smiled, "Now come on, or the neighbours will come outside to see who's making noise at this time of night.

She pulled him to his feet and wrapped him closer against the brisk wind as she led him to her house. Harry felt a stray sob escape, he hoped she hadn't noticed.

Of course she had, though. "What's wrong, you sweet little boy?" She asked him, no longer whispering now that they were safely inside her house.

Harry could only shrug, partially out of fear, partially out of something he couldn't name that he felt after she called him a sweet little boy. It was so different from the names he was used to hearing.

"Here, you're shivering. Lie by the fire and I'll get you some hot cocoa. Or would you like tea?" Harry shook his head, not moving. He was a little bit nervous at the idea of letting someone else get _him _something. The last time that had happened, Dudley had put a rat in his stew. Vernon had taken pictures of the whole event so they could all laugh later.

When she saw him not moving, the lady grabbed a blanket and threw it around him. Harry instantly felt warmer, and felt himself relax a little in spite of himself. "Now, go sit by the fire and I'll bring you something warm to drink."

Too warm and worn out from all the crying to argue, Harry sat down by the fire, which was crackling inside a huge stone fireplace that took up half of the wall. Above the fireplace was a clock that read 1:03. So it was earlier than Harry had thought. That was okay, he decided, because the Dursleys would never find him here.

When the clock read 1:07, the lady came back, holding a steaming mug in her hand. She sat down next to Harry and handed him the mug, which had rich brown cocoa in it.

Harry's mouth watered at the sight of it as he stared down in awe. He had never gotten to taste hot cocoa before! Dudley had it all the time, of course, he had had Harry make him some of that cheap kind that you mix with water.

But this, this was real hot chocolate. He could still see some flakes of ground chocolate floating at the top, which were quickly melting, and he could see by the thickness that this was real milk as well. He smelled it, savouring the sweetness like he had never smelled before.

Oh, sure, once he had gotten a piece of candy on halloween, but that was nothing to compare to the smell of _this. _

"Well are you going to eat it or just look at it? I wouldn't want you to waste all of my hard work," The lady bantered, even though the bantering was more one-sided.

Harry, stricken at the idea of wasting the drink, brought the cup to his lips and tilted the mug. He closed his eyes as he felt the heat touch his upper lip and opened his mouth to sip the tiniest amount.

Harry felt as though he had been sent to heaven. It was incredibly sweet, and rich, and moist, and the warmness filled his mouth and stayed in his chest once he swallowed. Despite himself, he made a small sound of pleasure and popped his eyes open.

Then he quickly took another sip, and another, each one tinier than the last to make sure the drink lasted as long as possible.

The lady gave him a strange, yet amused, look. "Haven't you ever had hot cocoa before?" Harry shook his head, mug still at his lips. Tears were in his eyes from the beauty of the drink.

"Well you don't need to drink it so slowly," she smiled, "There's lots more where that came from. I'm just glad to see someone who likes it so much." Harry widened his eyes in surprise. There was _more? _And she was going to give it to _him?_

The lady smiled at Harry's expression. She let him warm up and drink in silence for a few minutes, and then she started asking questions. By this point, Harry no longer cared. He was in a state of bliss.

"So, do you have a name, by any chance?"

Harry nodded. "My names Harry," he whispered quietly, mouth still encased in the mug. He doubted she had heard him, but she simply nodded.

"Mm. Well, my name's Henrietta. So, Mister Harry, what were you doing outside in an alleyway on such a cold december night?"

Harry giggled a little when Henrietta called him Mister Harry. He was also glad that she avoided mentioning that he was crying, because then he would have to answer some really awkward questions.

"I was lost," he finally answered simply.

"I have no doubt you were. There aren't a lot of people who live down here, and I certainly don't recognize you as one of them. So Harry, how old are you?"

"Seven."

"If I may, how did a seven-year-old such as yourself end up down here by the harbour at close to midnight?"

Harry shrugged and looked down at his drink. "I dunno," he mumbled.

"I see. So where are you trying to get away from?"

Harry choked on his drink. "How did you know?"

Henrietta smiled sadly. "Because I was once in your position, Harry. I was trying to get away from a very bad life. Are you also trying to do that?"

Harry just nodded, and a few tears filled his eyes.

"Well, you don't have to worry, Harry, because I don't plan on sending you back. Okay?"

Harry looked back up. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. "Really? Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you offering to help me?"

Henrietta gave an even sadder smile. "Because if I hadn't met someone who did the same for me, I don't know where I'd be right now."

Harry gulped. He didn't know either.

Henrietta continued. "Harry, would you like to run to another country?"

Harry's eyes widened again. "Where?"

"Canada."

"Another continent? Why there?"

"You certainly don't have to, but I have a boat ticket that leaves tomorrow that I have no intention of using, and the british police can't look for you overseas, so the process of finding you would take a lot longer there."

Harry could have slapped himself. That was genius! Here he was, planning on sitting and crying in a dark alleyway, when he could have been planning on moving to another country where no one would think to look for a seven-year-old boy!

"Can I really have your ticket?" His voice shook a little with gratitude, but he didn't want to cry again.

"Of course, Harry. How about tonight you stay here, and then tomorrow I'll take you to the boat and send you off? If anyone asks you can just say that your aunt is sending you off to visit a few relatives. Will that work for you?"

Harry smiled widely now. Instead of answering, he leaped up and hugged Henrietta around the waist. Even more surprising was when she hugged him back.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Harry woke up in front of a fire, under a blanket. His clothes felt incredibly soft for some reason, and when he looked down, he realized that he was wearing pyjamas.

That was really weird, because Harry had never owned pyjamas. Even if he had, they wouldn't have been such soft, comfortable ones like these.

Then Harry remembered where he was, and what had happened last night. After Henrietta had given Harry her ticket, she had thrown out his soggy sandwich from his pocket and made him a new one, even fuller and better.

Happily, Harry had eaten the sandwich while she took his too-small jacket and too-small shoes with too-big socks and went upstairs somewhere.

When she came back down, he was finished the sandwich and the glass of water she had poured him, so she took him upstairs where he had been running him a bath.

Harry had never in his life taken a bath before, so he was a little bit frightened, but Henrietta told him exactly what to do, gave him some soap and shampoo and left to wait outside the door in case he needed any help with anything.

After Harry had taken his lovely, warm, incredibly relaxing bath, he had asked Henrietta what he should use to dry off. She had told him to take any of the towels on the rack, with Harry had found amazing. All of the towels were big and fluffy, and there were red ones and blue ones and green ones and white ones.

Harry finally picked a big, soft, warm blue towel and dried off, then wrapped the towel around him.

When Henrietta had come back in, she had given him a soft pair of pyjamas that was only a little big. He had thanked her so many times she had to leave to get him to stop.

Then he had gone back downstairs, where Henrietta gave him a big, warm blanket to lay in in front of the fire, where Harry had fallen asleep.

Now that he had woken up, Harry felt awkward and intrusive in the big, empty quiet house. He had been sitting there fearfully and almost too warm when Henrietta came out of the kitchen.

"Oh, sorry dear, did I wake you? Here, come on, Harry, I made breakfast for us."

Harry followed her into the kitchen and wondered, not for the first time, if he was in a dream. If so, he decided, he hoped he never woke up.

After breakfast, which was eggs with bacon and some fruit, Henrietta left to get Harry some new clothes. When Harry asked why, she said it was because his old ones were "falling apart at the seams," and "much too big for a little boy such as himself," and "just plain ugly."

As Harry sat pondering all of this in the kitchen, he had to agree with this last statement. The clothes _were _ugly, and old; they were grey and covered in food and sweat stains that had never been washed out when they were Dudley's, even the jeans.

When Henrietta finally returned, she was holding a soft, warm-looking woollen black turtleneck sweater and a comfortable, loose-looking cotton green t-shirt. She was also holding brand-new jeans, which were dark blue and very comfortable-looking.

She told Harry to get changed in the bathroom, which he did. When he returned, she had shiny new shoes, which were the warm, comfy running shoes that everyone at school had had but him, and brand-new wool socks that were brown with pictures of dogs and cats on them.

Harry grinned and laughed. He felt like he was on cloud 9. No one had ever in his life done a fifteenth of the nice things Henrietta had done for him, and now here she was giving him new clothes, a place to sleep, free food, hot cocoa, and even a one-way ticket to _Canada, _for crying out loud!

Harry was beginning to feel like a whole new person, and something else, too: Special. No one had ever treated Harry like he mattered before, and even though he hardly knew Henrietta, he decided that she was the nicest person in the entire world.

And he was about to find out that she was nowhere near finished with the nice things.

After Harry had put on the nice shoes, he went back to the fireplace to see what time it was. 7:00.

"Henrietta!" he called.

"Yes, dear?" was her quick reply, from the kitchen it seemed.

"What time is the boat leaving at?"

"7:30, don't worry, it's almost time to go. I just have a few more things for you."

"You have _more?_" Harry could feel her smiling.

"Of course, just come here into the kitchen,"

Harry practically skipped into the kitchen, noticing how comfy his feet felt, and how well his clothes fit, and how well-rested and warm he was, and how nice Henrietta was treating him, and how his stomach felt full for the first time since he could remember, and how clean he felt, and how not-scared he was that he was going to get hurt today, and the list went on and on and on.

When Harry came into the kitchen, Henrietta smiled at him, but her eyes were sad.

"What's wrong, Henrietta?" he asked, sad that she was sad.

"Oh, nothing, you just remind me so much of my own son," she replied, trying to sound cheerful.

Harry was confused. "Why is that a sad thing?"

"Well, he died three weeks ago. There was a bad car crash and he was caught in the middle of it as he walked home from school. He was just like you, same height, same eyes, same kind, gentleness as you. That's why I have all of these clothes that fit you so well. The shoes were going to be his birthday present."

"Oh," said Harry. "Well, you can have them back, if you want. I wouldn't want to take his birthday present away."

Henrietta laughed. "No, of course I want you to have them. I'm sure he would have wanted you to have them as well, since you need them so much more than he would have."

"Oh. Well... thank you. And... thank him, too. He sounds - sounded - very nice." Harry stuttered.

"Of course, you sweet dear. You're too sweet! Now, enough with the sadness, I have a few more things to give you before we leave."

Harry, in spite of himself, was excited. He never got presents, not for christmas, not for his birthday, not for straight A's or getting Dudley straight A's. And now, here was this incredibly kind lady, giving all sorts of presents just for showing up! It made him feel more special than he had ever felt over the last seven years of his life combined.

Henrietta chuckled when she noticed how excited Harry was. She held out a backpack. It was made out of jean material, only it was dyed a deep red, and closed with a drawstring and a button. It also looked very full, and in the pocket on the side, there was a shiny red, stainless steel thermos.

Harry's eyes widened. He had never seen such a nice backpack before, and now here he was getting one! "Thank you," he whispered breathlessly.

Henrietta smiled, "Well now, don't you want to see what's inside the backpack?"

Harry nodded. Inside the backpack was his mathematics book, which he had completely forgotten about, but was very happy to have back. There was also a decently-sized container full of food, which would probably last him a good eight days, plus his jar of peanut butter, which hadn't even been opened yet that would last him a good while longer.

There was two plastic water bottles, a notebook, a pen with black ink and a pencil with black wood, and a pink eraser. There was also a strange looking contraption, it was deep blue, small and square shaped, and was about half a centimetre thick. It fit into his palm easily and weighed almost nothing, and there was a white circle in the middle with weird symbols on it.

"What's this?" he asked Henrietta.

"Oh, that's called an iPod," she answered with a smile. "I'm surprised you've never seen one before, but I probably shouldn't be. When you put in these earphones," she pulled out a thin wire with two knobs on the end,

"...and push that button there, it will play music. This button will pause it, this button will stop it, and this one will change the song. There are 700 songs loaded on here, so don't worry about getting bored," she smiled. "Also, this switch on the bottom turns it off. If you want to put it away, always turn it off first, or it will run out quicker. And when it does run out, just plug this thing into this plug attached to your bag. There's a solar panel there, so as long as your bag is in the sun occasionally, it will generate electricity to keep your iPod going."

Harry stared down in awe at his new iPod. "Would you like to try it?" Henrietta asked, smiling of course. Harry nodded and smiled. Henrietta leaned down and placed the earbuds in each of Harry's ears. "Push play," she said.

Harry did, and the reward was magical. A beautiful song began playing right in his ears. A grin inched across his face. Harry began dancing in the kitchen. Henrietta laughed and told Harry he was very sweet, but there was still more in the bag. Harry paused the music and turned the iPod off.

The rest of the bag consisted of a new book, a story for him to read if he was ever bored, a fork and spoon for his food, a pocketknife that had three knives, a magnifying glass, and a mini flashlight on it (not that he would he would need it), and two bundles of money: fifty euros, and fifty canadian dollars.

Harry was overjoyed as he carefully put everything back into the bag, making sure the biggest things weren't crushing the smaller things and that the tiny things were in a special pocket on the inside with a zipper. Then he hid the money behind the biggest things, closest to his back so that it would be hardest for anyone to steal.

Harry went to put the backpack on his back, but Henrietta stopped him. She then smiled and handed him a beige sheepskin coat with a big, furry hood and mittens in one pocket and a deep red beanie in the other.

The jacket was big, too big for Harry, but Henrietta said it was so that he could grow into it. Harry almost started crying again out of gratitude but he didn't want to seem sad in front of Henrietta.

Instead, he thanked her profusely as he put on the coat, the mittens and the hat, and the backpack with everything inside, and the unlikely pair stepped into the cold and walked to the harbour.


	8. Chapter 8

At 10:30 sunday morning, Harry was in the same hopeful mood he had been in 10:30 saturday morning. This time, he hoped, it could stay that way.

After he had said a tearful goodbye to Henrietta, and given the captain his ticket, he had been led to his room. Harry had never had a room before, and so he was very excited.

Harry got his own room because apparently, the journey was going to take two weeks. Harry was very happy at that idea, because it meant he had at least two more weeks of hidden freedom before he had to go back on the run.

Harry had looked around his room, looked out the window, which was underground, and watched the fish for a few minutes. It was all very interesting, because the only other time he had seen fish was at the zoo, and they were being fed to the other animals.

Then, Harry had looked at the clock on the wall, and seeing as how it was only 7:15 and the ship left at 7:30, decided to practice his magic.

First, he had tried his hand, which lit up easily and brighter than it had before. Then, he tried to lift the bedside table in the corner, but soon realized that wasn't going to work, because the bedside table was bolted to the wall, as was everything else, and he wouldn't want to go around ripping up the walls.

So, Harry was sitting there wondering what to lift when he began to daydream. In his daydream, he was floating above the ship.

Actually- he was flying, he decided, above the ship, because if he flew then he could control where he went.

So Harry flew around and did loop-de-loops for a while, but then he got bored, so he flew down to find Henrietta, who was watching him and laughing. When he got close enough, she ruffled his hair, making him giggle.

Then Harry flew off, to go sightseeing around the city. He was flying randomly and looking at the tops of people's heads when he suddenly recognized some. The heads looked up, and Harry realized he was looking at the Dursleys.

Harry began to feel a mild sense of panic. He hadn't meant to get here! How could he get back to the boat?

Dudley was the first to notice Harry; when he did he threw water balloons at him. Three of them hit, making him cold and wet.

As Harry shivered, angry at Dudley, Petunia noticed him. She yelled up at him to come down and make some breakfast, but Harry stayed put and shook his head.

When Vernon looked up, though, he gave Harry a look that sent shivers down his spine: The same look he had given Harry the last time he had used magic - frightened, but recognizing.

What bothered Harry the most about that look was that it meant that Vernon, and possibly Petunia, knew things about Harry that Harry himself didn't know.

They knew where he had come from, who his parents were, probably where the power he had came from as well. But they never told him any of it, and some of it also scared them to think about. What parts scared them, though?

Was it the magic itself, because it was weird and unheard of? Was it something about his parents, and his history, that related to the magic? Or was it... could it... were the Dursleys afraid because Harry was stronger than them, and they knew it?

Did the Dursleys torment him because _they_ were scared of _him? _Or out of jealousy, because he was so strong?

Harry would have kept on theorizing in his daydream, but a sudden jolt of the bolt awakened him and knocked him off his bed.

Harry looked at the clock. 7:23. He had a few more minutes before he should go back up on deck to wave goodbye to Henrietta.

Harry decided he would just have to practice levitating with smaller objects. He took everything out of his bag and lined it up on his bed. When he grabbed the stainless steel thermos, though, it was warm. Was there something in there?

Harry opened it up and a grin spread across his face. Hot cocoa. He took a sweet sip, and thanked Henrietta with all of his heart. He decided he wouldn't practice with the thermos, just in case.

After all of his things were lined up on the bed, Harry focused hard. By 7:28, he could lift all of the objects up at once!

He quickly packed all of his items back into the bag, threw it on his back, put his thermos back into its outside pocket right where he could reach it, put his mittens in his pocket, grabbed his room key, and ran out and up onto the deck.

He was just in time. Right when he reached the front of the boat, the foghorn blew. As he stood at the railing of the boat, he pulled his beanie down over his ears and his hood up to block the wind, and looked for Henrietta.

They found each other at the same time, and both smiled and waved at each other and didn't stop until the boat was completely out and they could no longer see each other.

Then Harry went back down to his deck, locked his door and took off his jacket. He lay everything back out on the bed again, and lifted everything at once.

After he was satisfied with the height he could get the objects to, he tried moving different objects to different places at the same time.

Soon enough, he was juggling the objects, making shapes out of them, making them dance, and moving them all around the room.

Eventually, though, he got bored with that, and put everything back in his bag. The time was 8:46. At 8:50, he was sitting on the bed thinking about his earlier daydream when he had his next idea.

_What if Harry could levitate himself?_

Harry thought it was brilliant. He could already move objects up, down and around to exactly where he wanted them to, and he was starting to teach himself to control movement without floating, like he had wriggled the table legs and Vernon's fist, so what if he could control his own body, too?

If he could do that, he could _fly! _

Excited, Harry decided to begin. He usually got something to fly by either looking at it or by imagining it in his mind, so Harry looked down at his feet and imagined himself looking at his feet.

Once he had a clear image in his mind, he imagined himself lifting off the ground, just a few inches so he wouldn't bump his head, and willed his body to do what his mind wanted it to do.

After a long time of concentrating, Harry couldn't feel the ground.

By this point, he had closed his eyes to concentrate further, focusing on just his entire mind's image and no longer trying to watch his feet lift off the ground.

So when he felt his feet dangle, even though he was standing up, he opened his eyes and looked down.

Harry laughed out loud and pumped his fist in the air. He had done it! He was flying!

He would have experimented further, but he was sweating and exhausted from the effort, so at 10:30 sunday morning, he willed himself back down, grabbed his bag and his coat, which now held his key, and left his room in search of a food court.


	9. Chapter 9

Three weeks later, Harry stepped onto dry land for the first time in what felt like a long time.

It was now almost february, as he had left on December 29.

The air was cool and crisp as Harry stepped off the steps of the boat and into the January snow. Unlike London, though, it was not nearly as windy, even though there was some wind. It was just colder.

Harry did up his coat and put on his mittens. His hat was already on his head, its bright red quite contrasting with his raven hair and his bright green eyes.

Harry could see his breath in front of him as he wandered through the streets of Canada, wondering where exactly he was going to go.

A few weeks ago, he had asked a crew member where they were getting off exactly and all about the culture there.

As it turned out, he was headed right for the centre of Quebec: Quebec City. Of course he was going to the only canadian province that didn't speak english.

This could be a good thing, though, as it was the least likely place english police were going to think to look for a young english boy.

Plus, Harry was smart. And young. He would learn, he supposed. He had to, didn't he?

Three and a half years later, Harry was doing quite well fending for himself.

Ever since Harry had arrived in Canada, he had been bouncing around from place to place. He liked it better like that, as even though he doubted that the police would still be looking for him, if they ever had been in the first place, that it would still be harder to pinpoint him.

First, he had arrived in Quebec City right in the middle of their Ice Festival. After showing some workers who were working on the ice hotel that they made every year how well he could cook (he had been doing it all his life for the Dursleys) they took him in and taught him how to carve and speak french.

So for a while, Harry had made a living carving ice sculptures and selling them on the streets and entering them in contests.

However, after about six months of that, social services found him and sent him to a children's home.

The children's home wasn't bad either, they even took him shopping for new clothes, which he was not only outgrowing but were also worn down to the thread after wearing them non-stop for about a year.

Harry had bought the exact same clothes he had been given by Henrietta, only bigger and newer, and his woollen socks no longer had puppies on them.

At the first children's home, Harry had learned how to make friends, and soon he had quite a few of them who all looked up to him for reasons he couldn't exactly figure out. Even some of the older children followed him around.

Harry enjoyed having friends and treated them with the same respect and kindness he had always wished he'd had growing up. He never told any of his friends where he had come from, though. Everyone assumed he had just been abandoned, like the rest of them.

Harry grew up in the children's home to be independent, quiet and respectful, but firm in what he believed in and a confident leader. He also took very good care of all of his friends, making sure they were never bullied or teased, and helping with their homework and chores.

In return, they gave him their undying loyalty and love, which was all he had ever wanted.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: Sorry, guys, this is a loong chapter, and it's pretty dull. I just needed one like this to explain the vast of time skipped since Harry ran away.**

Just after he turned nine, the children's home reaches its limit and began sending out children to other homes around the country.

Harry had been sent to live on a Cree reserve, because with his sheepskin coat, dark hair and bright green eyes, he looked like a First Nation and so the orphanage thought it would be best to send him back to his heritage.

Harry decided it would be best not to disagree, and so from then on everyone he met assumed he was a Cree, and it never even crossed their minds that he was a european.

Harry had spent a year and a half with the Cree up in Iqualit, who spent most of their time hunting and dancing. Every morning at the crack of dawn, Harry would wake up, pack up his tent and put it with the others.

Then, after performing the morning ritual of dancing in a circle and singing a Cree song, the men would go out to hunt animals and the women would go out to find herbs and berries.

Hunting was hard work, but it was rewarding. It built up Harry's endurance, it taught him how to fight, and built him up.

Harry had learned a lot from hunting with the Cree men, he had learned which animals were the tastiest and the healthiest, how to get the most meat out of one animal, how to fish with his bare hands, how to hunt with a bow and arrow, how to make a bow and arrow, how to make clothing out of animal skins, how to use different parts of the animals to make different useful items, how to sneak silently through the woods, how to fight, and much, much more.

He had also learned their native language, so Harry spoke three languages by the time he was ten. Hunting out in the sun had made him strong, muscular and tan, so he resembled the Cree even more.

But Harry had also spent some time with the women, being the curious boy with the thirst for knowledge that he was.

So Harry also learned how to spot poisonous plants, which nuts, seeds, roots, and berries were the tastiest and the healthiest, how to make clothing out of plants, how to clean and cure meat with plants, how to sew, how to make string out of different parts of plants and animals, how to care for children, how to cook with only raw materials, how to carve (much more advanced than what he had learned in Quebec), how to dance, how to draw and paint, and much, much more.

Harry had matured out of his fearful, pained, seven-year-old self living on the reserve and had used the skills he had learned at the children's home to his advantage:

When Harry was ten and a half, he had turned into a tall (for a ten-year-old), brown and strong boy, with a young but serious face and twinkling, intelligent green eyes.

He had a very strange accent, it was a mix of English, French and Cree, which no one really recognized because no one had really ever heard it before.

After the life he had lived, Harry was practically fearless, and rarely backed down, whether it was to a rabid wolf, being lost at night in the forest, getting in a fight or dealing with a bully.

However, he was still the same quiet and respectful boy he had always been. Even though he was very serious, Harry had a wicked sense of humour that he used to his advantage when he had to.

Everyone liked him, however he still had an aura of mystery that surrounded him, as he was very independent, with a shady past, and the accent only added to that.

The mystery, as well as the fearlessness, and the natural charisma he had made him a perfect leader, and almost anyone he met, young or old, would willingly let him take the reins of most situations.

As well as all that, he was incredibly intelligent: he spoke three languages, he could do grade 12 level math in his head, and he had incredible knowledge on a wide range of scientific subjects.

Also, because he had learned to heal with the first nation women, and his background knowledge of anatomy, he was an excellent healer.

He still wore the same outfit that Henrietta had given him, only bigger and slightly changed each time he outgrew it and had to replace it. A loose, green cotton t-shirt, a black turtleneck sweater, dark, loose, soft blue jeans, comfortable, soft, warm running shoes, woollen socks, a bright red beanie, matching red mittens, and a sheepskin fur coat with a big, furry hood. Oh, and the same denim backpack, dyed red.

The contents of the backpack had changed over time as well:

He had sold the mathematics book and Henrietta's book, and he never bothered to replace them as they were heavy and wasted space.

He still had the black spiral-bound notebook, and he used it as a journal to record all of the magic he had taught himself over the years, as well as theories of what it was. He also used it as an art book to doodle in while he was bored or listening to music, and he sometimes made up math problems to solve in there as well. He had never let anyone else but him look inside the notebook.

His black pen had run out and his pencil had broken, but he had gotten a fountain pen in Quebec with a replaceable ink cartridge that he filled with berry juice when it ran out, and he had fashioned himself a new pencil out of some tree bark and charcoal.

He still had his pocketknife, and he used it all the time for carving, hunting and much else. It was one of his most trusted companions.

His iPod and earbuds were still in great shape, and Harry used them all the time. Harry loved sitting by himself in the forest with his earbuds in, thinking about the future, theorizing about his magic, or reflecting on his past. It matured, relaxed and humbled him, and he tried to leave time for it every day.

He still had the container for food, and in it he made sure was always a reasonable supply of cured meat, roots, shoots, and berries. The food he stored in his backpack could last him about a month, but because it was all cured, it rarely spoiled.

He also had a pouch made out of beaver skin in which he kept medicinal herbs. These helped heal wounds, numb pain, or lower fevers. The only thing Harry couldn't fix with his herbs was broken bones, which he could easily cast with tree bark.

He also had his stainless steel thermos, which now always contained fresh water, no matter what.

Just in case he couldn't find fresh water, though, he had a small bottle of iodine drops in his bag.

Harry was very happy living on the reserve, fending for himself. He felt like he could do anything. And, more importantly, he felt free.


	11. Chapter 11

One year later, eleven-and-a-bit-year-old Harry was living at an orphanage in Manitoba.

After the reserve had been shut down, Harry had been sent to a small orphanage on a farm right on the edge of a city.

Harry liked that, because it meant that he still had the wide open space and the nature had he had grown up on on the reserve, but now he wasn't quite in the middle of nowhere anymore, and he could go into the town whenever he wanted to.

At the orphanage, though, there were a lot less people than he was used to, only twenty or so kids and four guardians.

Harry had become quite powerful among the twenty-four people he now lived with, between his quiet confidence, his physical strength, his fearlessness, his leadership abilities, his intelligence, and of course, his well-developed magic.

Harry had soon given up on trying to interact with the orphanage children, most had lived there their entire lives and had never even left the farm, not even to go to the city.

They worshipped Harry for being new and different and so Harry thought of them as mindless goons. He didn't enjoy interacting with the children a lot, so he spent majority of his time alone, listening to music and working on his magic.

By August, when Harry was eleven years old and a bit, he had a wide range of magical talents that he felt made him practically unstoppable.

Not only could he now fly quite effortlessly, he could light up his entire body in different colours and used the different colours to heat or cool himself as needed.

He could turn a breadcrumb into a loaf of bread by "widening" it, as he liked to call it, although really he had no idea what he was doing.

He could also do this with water, turning one drop into an entire glass.

He had found a way to use his levitating powers to control movement of people and animals, as well as fix broken bones or stop windpipes (when hunting, this was very useful).

Not to mention, he could do any or all of these things at the same time.

Right now, Harry was working on making himself invisible.

He had flown up to the roof, staying close to the wall so it looked like he was climbing to anyone who happened to notice him.

Up there, the orphanage building was so tall (it had twenty-seven stories, with one person's room on each floor. Harry's was on the twenty-fourth, which was a real pain when he had to climb all of those stairs to get to his room.) that no one could see him or anything he was doing there, which made it the ideal place to practice magic.

He didn't mind, though, because the twenty fourth flour was the most private. Who wanted to walk up that many stairs just to see him, after all?

The problem was, Harry had been working on invisibility for a few months now, and he could do no more than a few fingers at a time, or occasionally all of his toes.

Invisibility was also extremely draining, so when he had to do his chores after practicing he was so exhausted that he sometimes fainted in the mud.

But Harry didn't care about these problems, he was very hardworking and ambitious and _really _wanted to turn invisible.

He had a feeling that if he could do this, then he could accomplish almost anything.

He felt like he could be the most powerful person in the entire world - maybe even the universe.

It made his heart beat with excitement. He wasn't quite sure why he liked this feeling of power so much, but he didn't worry about it too much and instead used it to focus his concentration.

So it was there, while practicing on the roof, when the letter came.

Harry had magicked a place in the roof thinner and in his bedroom wall near the vent, so that he could hear almost anything in the entire house.

So even though Madame Agatha was on the first floor, Harry heard her quite well while on the roof, and soon slipped down stairs to see what she wanted.

"Ah, there you are, Harry, I was about to go looking for you," Madame Agatha said. Her voice sounded light, like she was joking, but her face stayed quite serious. No one in the orphanage had ever seen Agatha smile, even though she was really quite friendly and nice.

Madame Agatha held out a letter.

"Here, this came in the mail for you, Harry," Her eyes twinkled. Every other child in the orphanage had gotten at least a few letters, from long-lost relatives or old friends who had been adopted.

Harry was the only one who seemed to have no roots, no family. He had been very happy with this setup, glad that no one knew who he was well enough to send him a letter.

Until now.

With a twinge of fear and also a bit of excitement, Harry took the letter. "Thank you, Madame Agatha," He replied, giving a tiny smile that barely moved his lips.

Madame Agatha puffed out her chest a little at that. Harry also rarely smiled, but he wasn't quite as friendly as Agatha. Still, he was quite adored by all in the orphanage, so getting a smile was a high honor.

Harry had no doubt that rumours would be circulating by dinner.

Harry climbed all twenty-four flights of stairs, went into his room and locked the door. He then picked up his red backpack and pulled out his pocketknife.

Harry looked at the letter. On the front, in bright green cursive, were the words: Harry Potter, 56 Olde Lane, Twenty-fourth Floor, Roome 27.

Harry bit back his surprise. Who had sent him this letter? He didn't recognize the handwriting as anyone's from the orphanage, and he didn't know anyone with such coloured ink.

But who else knew that there were three rooms on the first floor, and therefore the twenty-fourth floor was room 27? And who else would bother with the original spellings of the ancient orphanage, such as Olde, and Roome?

He opened his pocketknife to slit the letter when he heard wheezing and a knock at the door.

"Harry, open up, dear. You've gotten another letter," Harry heard Agatha's muffled voice through the door, sounding almost as surprised as he was.

Harry opened the door to a red-faced, puffing Agatha, who presented the second letter. This one had an old-looking yellow envelope, and looked as though it were going to fall apart any second.

Harry took the envelope, thanked Agatha, and shut and locked the door.

_This _envelope had a similar enough inscription on it. In dark violet ink, so dark it almost looked indigo as it reflected the light, it read: Harry Potter, 56 Old Lane, M7P6F5, Room 27

Less specific than the crisp, white envelope, but still, Room 27? Harry wondered if this was some sort of joke.

If it was, he swore that he would get his revenge for getting his hopes up with not one, but two letters.

Harry had never gotten a letter before, not before this orphanage either. He couldn't help but be a little bit excited.

Harry decided to open the envelope he had gotten first, first. He took his pocketknife and slit the seam. Inside were two pieces of old, yellowed parchment paper.

Harry was a bit confused, as it was a similar paper to the envelope of the second letter, but he picked up the first page and started to read his first-ever letter.


	12. Chapter 12

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Congratulations, you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The train leaves on the 29th of August, school starts on the 30th._

_Attached is a list of the supplies you will need for your first year._

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm sure you are very confused, so I have decided to add to your letter to clear things up a bit. Harry, you are a wizard. I'm sure you have suspected something at some point over the years, but just ignored it or decided it was chance. Hogwarts is a school that will teach you to control and use your magic in London, the place where you were born, which is how you qualify, even though you now live very far away. If you reply to this letter saying that you will be attending, I will send someone to pick you up from your orphanage home and take you to London to begin your schooling. During the summers, I can arrange for you to stay with your relatives the Dursleys. I think that will be better for you than some orphanage. Please reply by August 25th._

_Care,_

_Professor Albus Dumbledore_

Harry didn't even bother opening the supplies list. He was never going back to the Dursleys. Dumbledore was an idiot for thinking he would be better off there than here in Canada, where he had learned so much and been so at peace.

Harry reached for the second letter, and as he did a strange thought struck him: The letter had said he was a wizard, and Harry hadn't objected at all.

He could easily believe he was a wizard. What else could his magic be? That part, he thought, was the only part of the letter that Harry agreed with.

But Harry didn't think he needed much help with _controlling _his magic. He could already do that. What he wanted to do was learn more, more advanced, more types.

He also wanted to learn all about the history of magic. After all, it was his history, which no one had ever bothered to tell him before now.

Harry reached for the second letter.

When he slit that one open, he was surprised to find new, clean white paper that was only slightly wrinkled, not old junk like the other letter had been. It was, though, still parchment, and it was jaggedly ripped at the ends of the pages, where he assumed it had been ripped off of its roll.

Still, it wasn't old, so that was a start.

Harry began to read his second-ever letter, hoping for better news.

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter,_

_You have been invited to Oldes Hollows School of Magical Learning. Here, if you so choose to accept, you will be taught by our finest professors a wide range of topics, from Charms to History of Magic to Care of Magical Creatures to Duelling, as well as much more. _

_Oldes Hollows has been awarded the top Canadian Magic School in Canada and the United States, top Third in the world. From first to fifth, the Best Awarded Magical Schools are Durmstrang school of Magic, Magical Republic Learning Centre, Oldes Hollows School of Magical Learning, L'apprendre de magique, and Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_This is just something we think you should know, so that you can take pride in your school, should you choose to attend, and also so you can learn about the other magical schools all over the globe._

_School starts on September 1st, application letters should be sent no later than August the 23rd. The school's transportation system leaves on the 30th of August from Queen's Crossing Station in Winnipeg. Reply letters should state if you have arranged for private transportation, as well as what that transportation is and what time you will arrive._

_A supplies list is attached to the second sheet of parchment enclosed. Please have with you all of the mandatory items on the list when you arrive at school._

_Best Wishes,_

_Headmaster Jaque Ombobyna_

_Harry,_

_Please reply by the 16th of August if you would like a Professor to come fetch you and help with your supplies, as well as introduce you to the magical world._

_Best Wishes_

Harry looked at the letter in awe after reading it three times. This sounded like a much better fit for him that that wretched Hog's Warts or whatever it had been called. Not to mention, the headmaster hadn't threatened to send him back to the Dursleys.

He threw out Professor Dumbledore's letter without a second thought and tucked Headmaster Ombobyna's into his bag.

Then he ripped out a sheet of paper from his notebook and wrote his reply. However, upon finishing his letter, Harry realized that not only did he not know how to send a letter, but he also had no idea where to send his to, or how to get it there.

He doubted that a magical school would show up in the orphanage's phone book.

So Harry decided to leave his letter on the roof until he could decide what to do with it, and enjoyed the rest of the day wandering through the forest listening to his music, and doing his chores.


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning, Harry woke up at the crack of dawn, as usual.

He got up, dressed, brushed his teeth and his hair, and went back into his room with the intention grabbing his coat against the cool morning air to get in some practicing of his invisibility for the next few hours until everyone else got up.

However, while he was putting on his coat, he heard a scratching on his window. He turned around, but all he could see was a bird's foot, knocking his window.

"Stupid bird," Harry muttered to himself. Ravens were always getting stuck by his window, not realizing that they would have to fly _around _the tall building.

Harry hated dealing with them, as they were excellent predators and were usually so quick that they would scratch up his arms and tear up his room before he could freeze them with his movement control and levitate them out of his room, and safely to the side of the building.

Harry went to open his window, fearing the worst, but as his hand was on the latch he noticed the raven's other foot. Attached to that foot was a letter, in the same old worn parchment as Oldes Hollow's had been.

Now excited, Harry opened the window and grabbed at the letter, expecting the bird to fly away. However, the smooth, shiny black bird did the opposite, and stuck out its foot for Harry to remove the letter.

Harry gave a smile and a nod of thanks to the bird, even though it felt stupid, and tore open the letter with his bare hands.

Inside was a single, ripped square of paper.

_Harry, take all of your belongings and come to the roof._

Confused, and tingling with apprehension, Harry threw out the blank envelope and stuck the card in his pocket. Then he cleaned his room quickly so that it looked like no one had ever been there, just the way he liked to leave it.

Never one to back down from fear or a puzzle, he grabbed his red bag, slung it over his shoulder and climber out of the window and onto the roof, closing the window behind him and locking it with magic, leaving not a trace that he was ever there in the first place.

When he clambered onto the roof, Harry was greeted with quite the shock. The bird who had given him his letter was there, perched on the shoulder of a young man dressed in a loose black sweater, the hint of his deep green shirt poking out from underneath. He was wearing dark, loose blue jeans.

The man looked to be about twenty-five, with wavy blond hair and light blue eyes. He had pale skin and full red lips, which were formed into an almost-smile, the same kind Harry himself always used.

The man was quite slender, like Harry, although he looked less muscular. He had a brown leather satchel slung over his shoulder and he was leaning on, of all things, a worn wooden broom. Harry gawked at it, wondering why anyone would bother to bring _that _onto the roof.

The man, when he saw Harry's look, let one thin, light eyebrow jump to his forehead, arched over for a second and his quizzical smile widened slightly.

"Admiring my broom, eh, Harry?" Harry looked back up into his face, not quite sure how to react.

"That's all right, I brought you one too, see?" Then, from behind him, he leaned over and picked up a shiny, new-looking broom, with twigs that were painted gold on the end, and even what appeared to be footrests.

Looking amused at Harry's confusion, the man's smile grew and he continued. "Best way to travel, they are, even the old rats like mine here. Oh, and by the way, I'm Trevor, but you can call me Professor Brown. I'll be teaching you Quidditch at school. Thanks for replying so quickly, by the way. I hate how everyone seems to put off something so simple until the very last minute, eh?"

Replying? Harry had never replied to anything... oh, wait, this man, Professor Brown, did he mean Harry's letter?

"You... you mean the one I left on the roof yesterday?" Harry asked tentatively, not exactly sure where this was going.

"Yup, your letter. You left it on the roof even, very kind. So easy for Shadow here to find and collect. Of course we didn't expect you know how to use Bird Post yet, growing up with muggles the way you did,"

Muggle? What kind of idiot word was that?

"What's a muggle?"

The man looked surprised for a second before recognition slid over his face. "Oh, yes, sorry, I forgot you've never been introduce to any of this before. Muggles are what we call non-magical folk. See, there's wizards and witches, wizards for boys, witches for girls, who are magical, and then there are muggles for people who don't have magic."

"So I _do _have magic!" Harry cried triumphantly.

"You've figured it out already? Wow, nice job, normally it takes muggle-raised wizards like yourself a little while for this to all sink in. You must be pretty smart to have figured it out all by yourself," Professor Brown complimented.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied, always happy to get a compliment.

"You're very welcome. Well deserved, I think. You'll fit in well at Oldes Hollow," Professor Brown replied.

Then he suddenly seemed to notice how light it was getting. "Well, we'd best be off. Here, hop on that broom. It's brand new, bought it just for you. Consider it a gift,"

"Um... no offense, sir, but what exactly am I going to do with a broom?" Harry questioned.

Professor Brown did a double take before again realizing that Harry was new at this.

"Oh, yes, sorry again, I'd forgotten. I'm usually not the one who does muggle pick-ups. These brooms are enchanted, so it means that you can use them to fly. It makes it very easy to get around,"

Harry decided then that most wizards could probably not fly on their own, or do a lot of the things Harry could.

Not wanting to get kicked out of school already for being crazy, he decided to keep his developed powers to himself for now until he could figure out what was considered normal, and what was not.

"Why don't you give it a go here?" Professor Brown asked. "Don't worry, I won't let you fall,"

Harry was not worried, and knew that he could catch himself if he did.

"What do I do?" Harry asked, picking up the broom.

Professor Brown smiled at his instant willingness and eagerness to learn.

"Just straddle it between your legs, yes, just like that, and then push off with your legs. Sometimes it helps the first couple of times if you imagine yourself lifting off as you kick off. It can help get the magical connection going,"

Harry glowed inside at this. He had been doing the right thing all along, without even knowing it! He wondered how many other wizards did that, and to what extent they did it to.

But for now, Harry had other things to occupy himself with. Harry straddled the broom, bent his knees, took a deep breath, and... kicked up as hard as he could.

For a split second, Harry felt gravity pulling him back down, and he panicked. But then the broom rightened itself out, and Harry was left floating there, about a metre of so off the roof.

Harry smiled. This was fun, very fun, and much easier than levitating himself. Harry had a feeling he would not tire from this.

Harry laughed out loud, and grinned fully. The professor smiled back at Harry's enthusiasm and kicked off himself, turning his broom so he was facing Harry.

"You'll fit in very well, indeed. Naturally talented with a thirst to learn, exactly what we strive for at Oldes Hollow."

Harry felt a puff of pride in his chest. He was _good _at being a wizard!

"Now that you're off the ground, just tilt in the direction you want to go. Forwards, backwards, or sideways, yes exactly like that! Now, are you ready to go?" Professor Brown grinned at Harry, pleased with his new charge.

"I was born ready!" Harry exclaimed, feeling on top of the world, literally. He leaned forward and his broom shot off like a rocket. Harry quickly leaned back and swerved to avoid some trees.

He could hear Professor Brown yelling, "Not so fast, Harry, you'll break something!" Professor Brown then levelled out beside him.

"Harry, the broom you have there is the latest model - the Firebolt 2000. It is the world's fastest broom, as well as most responsive, so go gentle with the controls, okay?"

Harry smiled, a little more modestly now. "Okay. I'm ready for real this time,"

And so the two rode off, to Harry's new life in the magical world he had always dreamed of.


	14. Chapter 14

At around 7:30, which was when the rest of the orphanage would be waking up and finding out he wasn't there, Harry and Professor Brown landed behind an old brick building.

"What is this place?" Harry asked, wondering where the magical village Professor Brown had told him about on the way was.

"Oh, it's right here, don't worry. Just follow me," And with that, Professor Brown stepped off his broom and carried it inside through a side door.

Harry followed suit, albeit a little nervous and confused. He felt a weight in his chest that felt oddly like disappointment, even though he knew Professor Brown was telling the truth - he thought. But the seed of doubt was there.

Harry looked for Professor Brown once his eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the building, and he realized that it was actually an old, run-down pub.

Harry found Professor Brown at the grimy bar, holding a drink in one hand and waving wildly with the other, his broom tucked under his arm.

Harry walked over to Professor Brown, who, when he noticed Harry, said to the bartender, "Ah, here he is! Harry, say hello to Mr. Gloom. He was just telling me the new password,"

Harry, confused as he was, said hello to the bartender, who looked extremely pleased to see him. Harry wondered why the man had... was that awe?... in his eyes as he looked fondly down at Harry.

He boomed out so the whole bar could hear, "Well hello, Mr. Harry Potter! Always a pleasure to see you! So, what are you doing around these parts? I'd have expected you to be in Hogwarts right now, eh?"

Harry shook his head at that, disgusted. The bartender seemed not to notice. "Oh, here, I got you a drink. It's on the house, of course," He grinned down, handing Harry a bottle.

Now, Harry was an adventurous kid, but he was not going to start drinking at the age of eleven. He decided to give the bartender the benefit of doubt.

"Um, sir, thank you, but... what exactly is this?"

The bartender stared for a second before realizing something. "Oh, it's a frozen butterbeer! I suspect you've never had any, living with muggles! Sorry about that, eh? Don't worry, there's no alcohol, Mr. Potter,"

"Oh, well, thank you, then," Harry started, taking the cool drink. He turned to Professor Brown to ask when they were leaving, but as he turned he noticed that all the people in the bar were staring at him.

Unnerved, Harry asked softly to the professor, "Sir, why are they all looking at us like that?"

Professor Brown seemed to understand exactly what he meant. "Oh, they're just curious. None of them would have expected to meet you, Harry,"

"...Why not, sir?"

Professor gave Harry a soft, almost pitying look before answering.

"Look, Harry, this may come as a bit of a shock to you, but you're very famous in the wizarding world. You see, when you were a baby, about a year old, the most powerful dark wizard of all time tried to kill you. He killed both of your parents easily, but you... all he could do to you was leave you with that scar on your forehead."

Professor Brown shifted Harry's hair to put his finger over the lightning-shaped scar. Emotions ran through Harry like a storm.

"But-but the Dursleys said I got that in a car accident! That my parents died in the crash! They never told me... told me-" Harry spluttered in rage.

Professor Brown gave Harry a sympathetic look. "Maybe they never knew, Harry."

Harry relaxed his shoulders, but he knew that what the Professor had said wasn't true. He still remembered the look in Vernon's eyes, that recognition, but also... the fear.

"Professor," Harry wondered, "How many people before me survived that spell? The one that the dark wizard used?"

Professor Brown's eyes grew cloudy.

"None, Harry. You are the only known survivor. That's why you're so famous,"

Harry wished he could say he was surprised, but... he had known he was right. And he knew that Vernon had known all of this as well.

All of his past, how his parents _really _died... Vernon had even known that Harry was a wizard. Of that, Harry had no doubt in his mind. He only wondered how Vernon had known.

And there, standing that day in an old abandoned pub, Harry swore to get revenge.

"Professor..." Harry wondered if he should be asking this question. He wondered if he wanted to know the answer.

Professor Brown seemed to notice his uncertainty. "Yes, Harry?" He asked softly.

"How powerful am I?"

The Professor looked very grieved, but Harry also noticed a sense of pride in his eyes.

"Very powerful, Harry. Possibly the most powerful to ever be."

After Harry had recovered from the learning of his real past, and had greeted all of his apparent fans, and had even signed someone's shirt, weirdly enough, Professor Brown finally led Harry out the back of the pub to a crumbling stone wall.

"Professor, when are we going to the magical village?" Harry asked, starting to get impatient.

The Professor smiled and took out a smooth, pointed stick from his pocket. "Right now." He tapped the thinner end of the stick against a brick right in front of him three times, then one slightly to the left four times, then one down two and four to the right twice.

"Harry, welcome to Hollow's Hollow," Professor made a grand gesture to the wall, and all of a sudden Harry heard a rumbling noise.

The ground beneath him shook, and then, right in front of his eyes, _the wall split in two!_

Harry's eyes widened in awe, and so did a smile on his face. It _was _real! Right in front of him, Harry was about to join a magical community, a place where he had always belonged, for the very first time.

The weight that had been on his chest lifted, instantly replaced by awe, wonder, joy, excitement, and a sense of... belonging. And something else, too. Harry thought it was power.

Maybe he really _was _the most powerful person in the world, or possibly even the universe! Harry couldn't wait to find out.

When the wall was finished opening, Hollow's Hollow was better than Harry ever could have imagined.

Bustling down the streets were hundreds of people, old, young, and everything in between, all apparently magical!

Majority of them wore woollen sweaters, to protect against the early morning almost-autumn chill, but Harry noticed as he stepped inside that it was noticeably warmer inside Hollow's Hollow than out in the muggle world.

Harry noticed that a lot of the people there were carrying the same pointed sticks as the Professor. He wondered what they were, but before he had time to ask, he noticed many more strange things.

Firstly, one young woman's hair was changing colour in a seemingly random pattern, as well as shape and length. As Harry looked closer, he could see the rest of her face's features changing as well.

As weird as that was, he saw another old man sitting on the steps outside of a store, talking to a tiny green person with huge ears and even huger yellow eyes, with thin arms and legs but big, scaly green hands and feet. The creature wasn't even wearing clothes - it was covered in an old, ripped pillowcase!

But Harry's attention was soon diverted to a young boy grabbing what appeared to be his mother's hand. As soon as they touched, the two of them disappeared with a loud CRACK. Harry saw that this was actually happening all over, although sometimes people did it by themselves or at the same time, but without touching.

Then Harry noticed some rats. There was nothing out of the ordinary with the rats themselves, but as he watched, two cackling teenagers pulled out their pointy stick-things and lifted the squirming rats into the air!

Harry could do that as well, of course, but he hadn't known if other wizards could do it too! And they seemed to be even better at it than he was, not even focusing on the rats as they laughed and talked, but still making the rats change colour, and then, _change shape!_

Before he knew what was happening, the rats had turned into a cat and a dog, which chased the cat down an alleyway.

Harry could have stood there for hours, but soon, Professor Brown startled him out of his shock by saying:

"So, would you like to go school shopping, or are you just going to stand there?"

Instead of answering, Harry marched into the street.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry stood inside the book store, his arms full of supplies.

Professor Brown had asked once they set off if Harry still had his supply list, which of course he did, so they had read over it together, Harry for the first time, to see what Harry needed.

The supply list was very strange, but Harry was getting used to that:

_-One pewter cauldron, standard size_

_-One plexiglass stir spoon_

_-Four sets of Potions Basics Set, Year One_

_-One crystal ball, clear_

_-One telescope_

_-Three sets of daytime robes and three sets of pyjama robes_

_-Casual clothes are optional_

_-Beginner Charms, Year One, by Andrea Glutton_

_-Defence Against the Dark Arts for Beginners, Horton Rein_

_-A History of Magic, Year One, Randy Holmes_

_-Oldes Hollows, A History, Grady Brunt_

_-Care and Keeping of Magical Creatures, Hagrid_

_-A Guide To Transfiguration, Year One, Dr. Gould_

_-A History of the Great Magical Wars, Volumes 1, 2 and 3, by Harriet Green_

_-Everything You Need to Know About Duelling, Volume 1_

_-Potions, Books 1, 2, 3 and 4, by Mr. Snape_

_-Dark Arts and Why They Aren't Light, Marigold Blume_

_-Guide to Quidditch, Trevor Brown_

_-The Ancient Art of WandMaking, Unknown Author_

_-Magical Enchantment of Ordinary Objects, Melissa Hodgstein_

_-The Beginner's Guide to Long-Term Enchantments of Ordinary Objects_

_-One Post Raven_

_-One Magical Plant of choice is optional_

_-One Broom, and model_

_-Broom gloves and basic broom caring kits are optional_

_-Sweets are optional_

_-Money is optional, but highly recommended_

_-One trunk; no more than two_

"Where are we going to get all of this stuff, Professor?" Harry asked in wonder. This day was getting weirder and weirder.

Professor Brown had just taken out a silk bag full of jingling coins and said that the school would pay for everything for Harry until they could set him up his own trust fund.

Harry couldn't really do anything but agree and thank the professor.

So now, in the book store, Harry had majority of what he needed. He had his cauldron, his stir spoon, his potion sets, his crystal ball, his telescope, his broom, he had bought broom gloves and a caring kit at the professor's advice, and he had all of his robes, which he had just been fitted for. He also had two new sets of his usual attire: black turtleneck, loose green shirt, loose, dark blue jeans, and running shoes.

Next, it was time to get him all of his books. It looked like his studies were not going to be easy; there were nineteen books on the list, and none looked (or felt) to be less than 550 pages. And it was only his first year!

Not to mention, the Care and Keeping of Magical Creatures book seemed to moving, almost as though it were alive. Harry wouldn't be too surprised if it was, it was already covered in fur and making strange noises.

It seemed as though that subject would provide some unique challenges all on its own.

Harry had asked Professor Brown why there were so many books, to which Professor Brown had told him that Oldes Hollow prided itself on having the most rigorous curriculum in the magical world.

He also promised that it was not as daunting or as challenging as it seemed, if you were willing to work hard, and if you hadn't been "softened" by another "lesser" school.

They also bought his trunk in the bookstore, which had seemed tiny to Harry until he opened it.

The trunk was enchanted, so once you unlocked it, it grew about three times the size and unfolded into plentiful cupboards, drawers and shelves, and even a small miniature closet for his robes and clothes.

Harry wondered why the school had bothered putting that two was optional on the list; Harry couldn't imagine how much a person would need to fill just one!

After all of the books, Professor and Harry packed away all of Harry's new things. Harry had never seen so much stuff in his life, much less owned it!

He almost had tears in his eyes as he packed away the last of the things he had, but he felt stupid at that and blinked them away.

Harry realized that he was exhausted from all of the shopping. It had taken almost half the day, and now it was past lunchtime and they still hadn't eaten. Harry had never even had breakfast, and he was feeling a bit faint.

He wasn't going to complain, but it seemed his stomach had other plans. As they were closing Harry's trunk, his stomach rumbled and growled loudly.

Harry's face turned bright red with embarrassment, but the professor just smiled and checked his watch.

"Oh, dear, it seems as though I've lost track of time! Sorry, Harry, I don't think you've even eaten breakfast today! Come on, let's go eat and we can finish shopping later."

Professor Brown shut the trunk and handed it to Harry, who realized that it weighed almost nothing, probably because of more magic. Harry smiled and the two went to lunch.

In the restaurant, Harry and Professor Brown were discussing magic, as it was a topic that Harry was obviously very interested in.

Professor Brown had told Harry everything he had wanted to know, and right now that was about how they had trained ravens to deliver mail.

Professor Brown didn't know the whole workings of it, but he thought they used hypnotism on the baby birds so that they grew up tame.

It was very convenient, he said, to have birds deliver mail, because they were much faster then having people deliver it by broom, and also it cost much less.

Harry had agreed, partially because he didn't know how fast people could deliver post, and also because he had no idea how the monetary system here worked.

Which was his next question.

"Oh, it's pretty simple, actually, as there's only three coins to choose from. Knuts, sickles and galleons. Knuts are the lowest, then sickles, then galleons. There's 29 knuts in a sickle, and 17 sickles in a galleon, so, I guess there'r 493 knuts in a galleon, but I'd just use sickles,"

After lunch, which Harry found quite filling, and a butterbeer, which Harry decided was the second-best drink in the world (hot cocoa was first) Harry took out his list to see everything else would need.

Mainly, he would need a post bird. He didn't really know where to get one, or if he even wanted one, but he just trusted Professor Brown and followed him into a dank, musty store that was dim and smelled like bird poo and raw fish.

"Well, go look around, Harry. Do you like any of them?"

Harry looked around. All along every wall were cages, stacked on top of each other in long, delicate stacks or hanging off the ceiling precariously. They all looked the same to Harry, big black birds with sharp talons and sharper beaks, and mean-looking beady eyes.

But as he looked, he noticed one in the corner. It was smaller than all the others, and wasn't staring at Harry like he was dinner. Harry wandered over to that one to look closer.

When he got there, he noticed that this bird was also a lighter colour than the others, a delicate speckled grey, with a shining black beak.

Even though it was small, the bird looked muscular and strong, with long, almost disproportional wings.

"Can I have this one, please, Professor?"

"Which one, that one? You want the runt over there? Well, sure, I guess... it must be cheaper, so there's a plus..."

As Professor Brown went off to pay, the little grey bird looked up when it seemed to realize that someone wanted it. It spread its wings as much as it could in the tiny cage and let out a surprising loud, musical caw.

Harry smiled at it and stuck his fingers through the bars to pet its feathers. "Hello, beautiful," He whispered gently to the bird.

The bird pecked lightly at his fingers and stuck its tongue out to lick Harry's fingers. Harry hadn't known that birds could lick, but the tongue was round and tickled slightly, making him giggle slightly.

The professor came over. "What are you going to name her?" He asked, lifting the bird's cage off the shelf and depositing it into Harry's arms.

"I dunno. I'll think about it,"

"Well, pick well. You only get one chance." Professor Brown smiled at Harry, seemingly happier with the bird now that he could see how happy it made Harry.

"Now let's get out of this disgusting store."

Harry gladly agreed.


	16. Chapter 16

Harry walked toward the train in apprehension. Professor Brown had dropped him off here, then disappeared to deal with some school-related issue.

Except now Harry was all alone, and had to board the train. He loaded his trunk into the belly of the train, then, with his bird, who he had named Henrietta, and his magical plant, which was called a Honey Vine and could glow in the dark, interact with its surroundings and, of course, make honey.

Harry got on the train, which was long, thin and a deep blue, and put Henrietta's cage on the front compartment with all the other birds. Then he left his plant in the area that that was supposed to be left in, and walked down the isle in search of an empty cart.

He soon found one, right in the middle of the train.

Harry sat down so that he would be facing forward when the train began to move, checked his bag to make sure all of his money was in there (50 galleons, 47 sickles and 36 knuts) and pulled out the textbook he had brought along in his bag, which was called _Oldes Hollow, A History_.

He was about three-quarter's way through the book, and wanted to finish it before he got to the school, so that he would have enough background information.

Harry wondered with a bit of worry how many children here would be from muggle families.

He suspected not many, if any others, and had a feeling that all of the magical-raised children would know a lot more to start out with about the school than him.

Soon, Harry felt the train begin to move, but he was too lost in his book to worry anymore. The school seemed very interesting, not least because it was magic.

"Hey, sorry, is anyone else sitting here?"

Harry looked up to see a short, young girl who seemed to be his age peering into his compartment.

"Oh, uh.. no. Not at all," Harry stuttered, quickly shutting his book and putting it away.

"K, good, because there's nowhere else left to sit. How is it that this train fills up so fast, eh?"

"Um, I wouldn't know, I got here pretty early, actually,"

"Lucky you. I almost missed it, because my brother refused to apparate to the station for some reason, and my mom couldn't just leave him at home, she would have, but he would have torn the place to bits, and she didn't know how long it would take to get here, because you know, I'm the oldest in my family and my mom went to a different school, one further north somewhere, so I know, like, nothing about this place, and everyone here seems to already know so much, like to arrive, like, twenty minutes early so you can get a spot on the train, right?"

Harry blinked. The girl had spoken so much so quickly that it took him a minute to process everything she had just said.

"Um... what's apparate?"

"You don't know what apparating is? How?" The girl gave him a weird look. Harry sighed and decided it would be pointless to hide it.

"I was raised by muggles as an orphan. I only just found out about magic about a week and a half ago. I still have no idea what most of everything is,"

The girl's eyes widened. "Wooah. That's so cool! I once met a muggle-born kid! I think he's here, actually, sitting with all of the other muggle-borns and raised. Did you not notice them? Oh, I should have introduced you! Then again, I just met you, so that wouldn't have even been possible, right? That's okay, I'll just introduce you once we get off, or maybe later I'll take you to his cart. Oh, you two will get along so well together! You're both so quiet-"

Harry wondered if everyone was quiet around this girl, he didn't really see how anyone could get a word in edgewise. However, he was pleased to hear that apparently there were lots of muggle-borns here, and so Harry wouldn't be so out of place.

Maybe he could fit in after all.

"-oh, what was his name?! Why am I forgetting this? Wait, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! My name's Lola, Lola Silver, and you are..."

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter," Harry stated simply, his head hurting a little.

Lola's eyes grew even wider and her mouth dropped open. "YOU'RE Harry Potter? The baby who survived He-who-must-not-be-named?!"

Harry groaned inwardly. He had forgotten he was famous. But this was the first he had heard of this He-who-must-not-be-named guy.

"Who's that?"

"You don't know who he is? He tried to kill you!"

"Yeah, I know that," Harry said, a little bit snappily, "But nobody's bothered to tell me his name!"

Lola took a deep breath, seemingly contemplating something.

"Okay, well, we aren't supposed to use his name, it's kind of like a taboo, sort of..." she trailed off for a second, "But, if I were you, I wouldn't want his name to be kept a secret, either, especially since you of all people have a right to know,"

At this point, her voice got very hushed, and she leaned in closer, "So, umm... well.. his name is... Voldemort,"

As soon as she said it, she winced and flung back into her seat.

"Well, I'm glad that's over with. So you really never knew his name?" Lola questioned, her brown eyes full of concern. Harry looked for the pity he expected to see as well, but there was none.

Harry decided he was going to like Lola. He had always hated when people pitied him for things no one could have changed. Not to mention, she was willing to do something she really didn't want to just for him. He could always use loyal friends like that.

"No, I never did. So, you were saying you had a brother..."

Three hours into the train ride, Harry and Lola were admiring the sunset together out the window.

After they had started talking, they had both shared their pasts with each other, and bonded over that, but now they were well past the getting-to-know-each-other stage and were now having normal, flowed conversation about whatever struck them.

So now, they had their faces and hands smushed against the window, each trying to make the other laugh while they admired the view, and that was how they looked when the car door opened behind them.

Harry and Lola, surprised and embarrassed, wheeled around to see who was there.

A worried-looking boy stood in the doorway, looking awkwardly around. He was slightly tan, with curly blond hair and a slight, average-height frame. But the main thing that stuck out about him were his deep, stormy grey eyes.

They were quite captivating, drawing Harry in even as they darted around nervously, and Harry stared at them until the boy spoke, knocking him out of it.

"Um... have you by any chance seen a Poison-Snake Vine around here?" His brown face flushed beet-red, "Mine... um, it kind of... escaped... so... uh, it's not anywhere else, um..."

The boy kept rambling, trying to find a less mortifying way of saying that his poisonous plant was somewhere loose on the train, when suddenly Lola fell out of her seat.

Scrambling on the floor, she pointed to the opposite corner of the ceiling and shrieked, where, dangling from the overhead compartment, a wriggling, hissing vine stuck out its forked green tongue.

The boy looked terrified and relieved at the same time. "Oh, um, there it is, I guess! Uh..."

Harry stood up and moved in front of Lola so that she would stop screaming, hoped. He assumed she would feel more protected if she could no longer see the plant.

"Relax, both of you," He stated firmly, but still what he hoped was nicely, "Here, close the door so it can't escape and get behind me," he motioned to the boy.

The boy, now pale, did as he was told. Harry continued to think out loud. "Okay, this is a Poison-Snake Vine, from the family _Scorpius Vinus, _related to both the Swinging Monkey Vine and the rattlesnake.

It shares tendencies with both, too, so it quite docile once captured, but likes to explore and find new territory away from humans. You didn't leave it with the other plants, did you?"

The boy shook his head, eyes wide. He probably thought Harry was accusing him.

"Perfect. Then that means it probably just wanted some quiet. Quickly open the door and go get its pot. Close the door behind you. Then come back as quickly as you can, and I'll put it back,"

The boy nodded, and put his hand on the door to leave.

"Actually, wait..." Harry said quickly, looking down at Lola, who was hunched over in the corner, terrified. "Maybe take her, too."

The boy smiled for the first time now and nodded. He motioned for Lola to come, and the two left the car.

Harry sighed as he sat down as the door closed behind him and stared at the snake vine.

"Now, what are we going to do with you, huh, you little rascal?" Harry jokingly asked the snake.

The snake hissed, and Harry heard, _well, hopefully you'll jussst put me back in my pot. It isss rather cold up here, but I don't want to jump down._

Harry, confused, jumped a bit and looked around.

"Huh? Who said that?"

_I did, of coursssse. Who else?_

As Harry heard that, the snake unraveled from its perch and swivelled its head to stare at Harry. That was when Harry realized that the snake was _talking. _"Can you talk, or can only I hear you?"

_Both. I can talk, but not in the way you humansss do. Thissss isss how ssssnakesss talk. Asss I am part ssssnake, I alsssso sssspeak like thissss You, and a rare few othersss can hear me._

Harry ogled the snake, shocked, but also a little pleased that he had uncovered yet another of his strange, magical talents.

"I'm very happy to hear that. Do you have a name?"

_Sssserverusssss. That is what the boy callsssss me. The one who feedssss me and caresssss for my pot._

"Well, nice to meet you, Severus. I'm Harry," Just then, he heard two sets of footsteps. He assumed it meant that Lola and the boy were coming back. He spoke quickly now, trying to get in a few last words.

"Severus, let's make a deal. How about you go back into your pot, and stay in your pot when you're supposed to, and I will help you down so you don't have to jump, and make sure you get to explore and spend some time alone where it's quiet. Deal?"

_That sssoundssss like an excccelent deal._

As the snake was talking, Lola and the boy came back in.

"Woah," said the boy, holding a large pot. "Sorry I took so long, eh? Looks like he's getting cranky. I didn't mean for him to start hissing at you! Do you think he's mad?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah, I think he's just getting used to his surroundings. Here," Harry stood up, "I'll get him down. Get the pot ready."

The boy held out the pot and Harry reached up to the plant. Severus slid onto Harry's arm and curled around his neck, yawning and showing his green fangs. Harry, though, wasn't frightened. Him and Severus had a deal, after all.

The boy grinned. "Wow! Looks like he likes you!"

Harry grinned right back, and deposited the plant into its pot. "Yeah, I think so too. So, what's your name?"

"I'm Zach,"

"I'm Harry,"

"You already know that I'm Lola, so..." Lola said, entering the cart.

"Yeah, and he'll be reminded every time he looks at his vine," Harry joked, smiling with all his teeth.

Zach laughed, and Lola quickly joined.

So, the three of them spent the rest of the train ride like that, laughing and joking all the way to the first night of their new lives.


	17. Chapter 17

About an hour or so later, Harry had learned a lot about his new friends.

Firstly, Lola was actually quite shy, and had only babbled so much to try and cover up her shyness. She still talked a lot, but not nearly as much as Harry had originally thought she had.

She was friendly and easy going, and she was very hard working and set in her ways. Even though she was shy, she was also very loud and liked to laugh, sometimes so hard that she attracted strange looks from people passing their cart.

She seemed like a very loyal, good friend, and Harry was already glad that they had met.

Zach probably couldn't have been more opposite. He was quiet but social, and had apparently already met plenty of other people that he couldn't wait to introduce to Harry and Lola.

He was much more serious and guarded than Lola, but even though he came across as quite serious he quickly warmed up to those who were friendly to him and had a wicked sense of humour.

He was also extremely studious, and was determined to get straight A's on all sixteen or so subjects that they seemed to have. However, he was disorganized and absentminded as well, and was constantly tripping over his own feet.

Harry couldn't wait to get to know him better, and was already making plans in his head to study with Zach to keep himself on track.

Finally, as nightfall arrived and the first stars began to twinkle, the bus jolted smoothly to a halt, and Harry, Lola and Zach pushed through the crowd to get off the bus and get their first view of Oldes Hollow.

Harry was off first, and when he saw the school he gasped in awe.

It was a giant castle, with tiers and towers and seemed to have more floors than the orphanage, which Harry had never thought was possible.

They were still far away from the castle, and in between the train and the school was about an acre and a half's worth of space. There was a fence about three metres away, though, so Harry decided happily that he would have a lot of ground to explore once he found the time.

Looking back at the castle, Harry could see that it was out of what appeared to be old rock.

What was strange about it was how each individual brick seemed to catch non-existent light and reflect it back at strange angles in varied, vibrant, shiny colours. It gave the whole structure a scaled appearance, but because each "scale" flashed individually, it gave the castle the appearance of constant movement, like jello or a mirage.

Also, the grass around the castle all the way to the fence seemed to slowly shift through the colours of the rainbow, gradually changing so slowly you didn't realize it had changed until it was finished.

Harry could hear his friends gasping behind him as they, too, noticed the castle for the first time.

"Wow," whispered Lola, unable to tear her eyes away from Oldes Hollow. Zach just blinked, and slowly a smile spread across his face while his grey eyes shined.

Harry turned to his friends and said, "I can't wait to get inside,"

Lola laughed slightly and shook Zach out of his trance. "Come on, she said, let's get our trunks,"

Zach stopped her. "We aren't supposed to take them. The house elves bring them to our rooms while we have dinner and get our houses,"

Harry knew from the book what houses were, although he had just started that chapter so he didn't know much about them. However, the book hadn't covered house elves.

"What's a house elf?" He asked, intrigued at yet more magic that he didn't know about.

"A house elf is a magical creature that is bound to whichever family that has bought it's bloodline. So, if my great-great grandparents bought one, than it would still be mine now, because that's my bloodline. A house elf can only be freed if presented with an article of clothing, otherwise it magically must do what its master says."

"Cool," Harry thought, thinking he wanted a house elf. Someone who is bound not only to you, but to your children, and children's children, forever? He wondered where to get one.

"Well," said Lola, "If we aren't supposed to get our bags, then where do we go?"

Just then, they heard a loud voice calling, "FIRST YEARS OVER HERE! FIRST YEARS OVER HERE!"

"Probably there," replied Harry.

So the threesome walked towards the sound of the loud voice, until they got to a section of the fence where a large, burly man was standing.

He was bald, but had a thick, black beard, and he was about five and a half feet tall. He was also quite hefty, but he seemed cheerful and had kind eyes and a smiler that was huger than his voice.

He was wearing the same black robes that Professor Brown had been wearing, only they were bigger, and had a thick, furry overcoat buttoned on top.

When a sizeable amount of eleven-year-olds was crowded around the man, he counted them out with his finger and cried, "Ah! There you all are! Come along now, right this way!"

He had a faint irish accent, which was strange, as they were in Canada. Then again, Harry was also from Europe, so he wasn't really one to judge.

Harry followed the man while walking in between Lola and Zach, and they stayed right in the middle of the pack.

Once they had walked to the opening of the gates, the man said, "Well, this is it! Welcome to Oldes Hollow!"

The gates slowly creaked open, and all the first years stepped inside. As soon as the last one was in, the gates automatically shut.

When Harry stepped over the threshold, he noticed the same thing he had noticed while in Hollow's Hollow. As soon as he was inside the property boundaries of the school, the air was instantly warmer, still cool, but warmer, and less windy.

It also felt slightly tingly, and Harry thought he could hear the slight buzz of all of the magic in this place.

"Well, you'll all be headin' off to the school now! The older years all got here about an hour or so ago, so you'll all be the last ones in! Get in groups of six or seven, so you can load onto these carriages and they'll take you right to the school! Oh, and by the way, my name's Seamus, pronounced SAY-mus, not SEE-mis! Now, off you go!"

Seamus waved in the direction behind him, and as he moved, Harry noticed that he had been standing in the way of about twenty or so carriages, pulled by the most majestic creatures Harry had ever seen.

They were taller and wider than horses, with wings and beaks and beady, gleaming eyes, and their feathers gave off the same strange light-reflecting glow as the school itself did. As each one came to a halt, pulling a cart, it reared back and screeched an almost musical, sonically loud birdcall.

Harry's mouth dropped, and as he was wondering what they were, he felt Zach's hot breath in his ear. "Those are Canadian Hippogriffs. They're some of the most proud magical creatures there are, other than centaurs, of course, and wizards,"

All Harry could reply was a breathless wow, but luckily Lola grabbed his arm and dragged him to follow to meet the muggle-born she had mentioned earlier - Andrew, was it? - and his two friends. Zach followed.

Soon, Harry was on a hippogriff-pulled cart with his five new friends, Lola, Zach, Aaron (so that was his name! - exclaimed Lola) Mary, and Hannah.

Harry and Aaron were muggle-borns, and Aaron had bonded excitedly with Harry over knowing that at least there was someone else who had almost as little a clue about this place as he did.

Harry had felt the same way, and pretty soon there was a four-on-two debate over whether or not the magical world was complicated to get the hang of.

Laughing and joking, the six were waiting for their cart to leave with all the others. Seamus (SAY-mus, Harry reminded himself) was busy checking each cart making sure the doors were secure and that everyone was boarded.

After about three minutes or so, Seamus had decided that they were ready to go. He yelled for the hippogriff's attention, which got everyone else's attention too, being so loud, and cried, "Hippogriffs, attention! Off in three, two one, GO! See you at Hollow's!"

Once Seamus had shouted go, all of the hippogriffs simultaneously reared back and cawed, then started charging for the trees at an alarming pace.

Harry panicked, knowing that not more than one or two carriages would be able to make it through if they kept in a line/clump like they were, but Harry wondered if they could stop now even if they wanted to in time, at the speed they were going.

Harry looked around, and could see everyone else panicking as well. He could even hear some screaming, some of which were coming from Hannah, who had tears in her eyes as she shrieked.

Harry braced himself for the crash as the forest approached. They were going to crash in three...two...one...

Heart racing, Harry tightened his grip on the edge of the carriage, but right before they hit the trees, he felt the cart tilt underneath him and before he knew it, they were in the air, flying over the forest's canopy.

Harry laughed out loud in amazement, and soon, everyone who had closed their eyes was peering through their fingers, and everyone who wasn't was teetering dangerously over the side, waving at the trees and at each other.

Hannah's face turned beet-red, but no one else in the carriage seemed to have noticed Hannah's terror in the first place, nor her embarrassment now. Harry also ignored it, and went back to looking at the view.

They were still going just as fast as before, only now that they were flying smoothly it wasn't scary anymore.

Aaron turned around to face the rest of their carriage's passengers and screamed, "THIS IS AWESOME!"

They all laughed, and a boy from a different cart yelled over, "YA IT IS!"

Soon, everyone was yelling at each other.

"I CAN FLY!"

"MY CART'S HIGHER THAN YOUR CART!"

"LOOK MA! NO HANDS!"

By the time the carriages began to land, all of the first years were laughing and screaming with each other, Harry included. He figured it was the adrenaline rush of what had just happened, as he knew that fear and love were closely related.

Harry thought it was genius of the school to do it this way, as now, the entire group already seemed close, and different groups of six and sevens began merging and chatting, some still shaking from the air.

Harry and his friends joined with the boy who had started the screaming's group. As the first years walked towards the doors of the castle, Harry learned that his name was Jacob, and that two of his friends' names were Melody and Chase.

They fell into easy conversation with the rest of the (now thirteen people) group, and they walked grinning to the castle.


	18. Chapter 18

The first years were met at the front doors of the majestic castle by another teacher, a strict-looking, middle aged woman who told them to call her Professor McIntyre.

Professor McIntyre led them through the doors of the castle, where Harry was greeted with the biggest room he had ever seen.

"Now, this is the Main Hall. It is the front room of our school, and where you will eat and where ceremonies will be held." Professor McIntyre narrated.

Harry looked at the expansive room. It was about the length of three football fields lined up, and the width of two. The sparkling, white stone walls were so high that Harry couldn't even see the ceiling, and the floor was shiny and made of dark wood.

At the opposite end of the room from where Harry was standing was a single raised dark, wooden podium, right in the centre of width of the room and about three metres away from the wall.

There was a single wooden chair the same shade directly in front.

Then there were the tables.

Six stone tables, each a different colour, almost the entire length of the room, jutting out from the wall where the first years were standing and reaching until about three metres in front of the podium.

The tables were filled with children, ages ranging from about twelve to seventeen. The only space left at the tables was an equal amount of empty bench space at the fronts, closest to the podium.

Harry then noticed that there was a raised table to one wall, and just less than what looked like twenty teachers gathered around it, each wearing the same black robes.

Harry then looked at the students - they were also all wearing identical robes, only theirs, like the ones Harry had bought, were a light, pleasing beige colour, and wore embellishments with different colours.

The colours, Harry noticed, were coordinated with the tables the children sat at.

In the farthest corner to the left were the dark blue students, then there were the purples, then the whites, then the reds, then the yellows, and then the greens in the opposite furthest right corner.

Each table had enough space between it for about three people to walk through, except in between the two centre tables it was widened to about ten people could comfortably walk through.

After giving the first years enough time to stare, Professor McIntyre rounded up the children and marched them to the front of the hall, right down the middle.

When the first years at the front of the group were lined up with the fronts of the white and red stone tables, Professor McIntyre walked to the side of the room and another man appeared in front of the podium and smiled.

This man was wearing grey robes, with sparkling golden embellishments. He looked to be about thirty and had straight reddish-brown hair that was cropped just above his eyebrows and stayed that length all the way around.

He had shining hazel eyes, and dark red lips. As he smiled, he raised his hands, and as soon as they were up, the ceaseless chatter in the Main Hall slowed to a stop, and heads swivelled from all directions.

"Welcome, everyone, to another brilliant year at Oldes Hollow!"

Everyone cheered for a second before quieting down again.

"I know that this is going to be an excellent year for all of you, and I am excited to once again be here to enjoy it with you. To those who do not know, I am Headmaster Ombobyna, but to make things simpler, please call me Headmaster Jaque.

Now, before the sorting begins, I have a few rules to announce, to keep the peace and safety here at Oldes Hollow, or just Hollow's for short.

First. No student is allowed to go past the gate without teacher permission and supervision. This is vital, as majority of you are too young to use magic outside the gates of the school, and therefore will not be able to defend yourselves in case of an emergency.

As most of you know, the age allowed to use magic outside of school globally is seventeen, and students turn seventeen the same year that they graduate. However, not all students turn seventeen while in school, and therefore this rule applies to all students.

Second. There are two forests on school grounds. One changes colour with the grass, and that is open to all students to use and enjoy whenever they would like.

The other is a dark forest that is always the same colour, and never gets light, not even during the day. This forest is forbidden to all students unless they have a teacher's permission and supervision at all times.

That forest is full of dangerous magical creatures that can and will kill you before you can blink. Don't get cocky and think you can protect yourself; you probably can't. There is a difference between bravery and foolishness.

Third. All homework is to be completed and handed in on time unless one is too sick to come to class.

Oldes Hollow is the third best school internationally, and we get there because of our prestigious academics and amazing school-wide grade levels.

Homework is there to help you achieve these grade levels, which, if you are not already motivated to achieve, think of the wrath this entire school if you were to drop the school-wide average.

It sounds mean and competitive, but the rule isn't to do well, only to do homework. The doing well comes easy from that.

There are other important rules as well, but I don't want to keep you all waiting from what you've all been waiting for: the sorting, and the opening feast, of course!

First years:

What you see before you at these six tables is not separation, it is unity. By grouping you with people who share your most dominant trait, but are not completely the same as you, it allows you to feel more comfortable in your school, and if you feel more comfortable, you can branch out to other houses more quickly as well.

Also, you will know or learn what types of people you don't get along with as well, if any, and it becomes easier to avoid fighting with these people.

One of these six groups, for the next seven years, will be your guide, your home, and your family. The other five will be your peers, your friendships, and your fellowships.

So now, I invite you to, one by one, step up to this chair to be sorted.

The groups that you can be put into are, in order of tables:

Dragons, whose colour is blue, and whose trait is intelligence, Thestrals, whose colour is purple, and whose trait is originality, Ghosts, whose colour is white, and whose trait is strength, Centaurs, whose colour is red and whose trait is loyalty, Phoenix, whose colour is yellow and whose trait is adventurousness, and Griffins, whose colour is green and whose trait is diligence.

As I said before, one of these houses contains your family, and the other five, your friends.

Now, Professor McIntyre, would you please begin the sorting."


	19. Chapter 19

Harry gulped as Professor McIntyre stepped up to the podium.

In one hand, she held a roll of crisp, white parchment, and in the other, she held a large, old-looking hat.

She put the hat on the chair and opened the roll of parchment.

"Now, students, when I call your name, please sit on this chair and put the Sorting Hat on your head,"

She cleared her throat quickly, and began to read off of the list.

"Venzo, John!"

A boy just in front of Harry turned pale when he heard his name. Shaking, he stepped slowly up to the podium, where he sat in the chair and put the hat on his head.

"GHOST!" The hat cried, and a cheer erupted from the white table. John, looking relieved, walked over to the table and took his place.

"Silver, Lola!"

Lola breathed in sharply, and Harry could feel her shaking beside him.

She squeezed his hand, gave him a scared look, and walked up to the podium, stopping for a second in front of the chair before sitting on it and placing the hat on her head.

"CENTAUR!" The hat yelled, and Lola grinned and gave Harry a smile and wave and bounced excitedly off to her cheering table.

Harry gave her back a thumbs-up, and grinned for her. He was glad she had been placed in Centaur, Harry had already had a feeling that she would be a very loyal friend.

The names continued, but Harry soon stopped paying attention to the tedious list.

"Reimann, Zach!"

Zach gave Harry a look of surprise, but confidently walked up to the stool and placed the hat on his head. Harry was a bit surprised compared to all the others' terrified reactions, but Harry felt the same way.

Why be scared of something you already were? It seemed like a smart little motto to keep in mind, he thought.

"DRAGON!"

Zach grinned and joined his table's cheering members. He was smart, Harry thought, he would do well there.

"Potter, Harry!"

Even though Harry knew there was nothing to fear, he still suddenly felt a pang of nervousness before pushing it back down.

He walked as confidently as he could to the chair, but as he walked by he could hear hushed whispers from all the groups that made his face burn and his ears go red.

"Is that..."

"Is it _the _Harry Potter?"

"Check if you can see his scar!"

"Isn't he supposed to be in England or something?"

"What house do you think he'll be in?"

As Harry turned to sit in the chair, he could see hundreds of expectant faces staring at him.

Harry was not scared of what he already was, but with so much pressure because of who he was, he was scared to disappoint.

He knew there was no such thing as the _wrong _house, but the general public might have a certain view on where he should be put.

Better find out.

Harry took a deep breath and placed the hat on his head.

_Hmm... interesting... very interesting._

Harry heard himself think, even though he hadn't been thinking that.

_Well, you yourself aren't thinking that, but right now I am thinking from inside you to see what house you should be placed in. Don't worry, there's nothing to fear._

Harry, confused and slightly terrified as he was, decided to just let the sorting hat... or, himself, he supposed it was, technically, think.

_Why, thank you! You'd be surprised how annoying it is to sort some of these people. Filling their heads with so much fear that they can't let me think, begging to be put in a house that they don't belong in, begging not to be put in a house that they do belong in... such a pain! ...But anyways._

_Hmm... quite the mind, you've got. You'd be a good fit in Dragon, I suppose. Yes, taht's right, with your friend Zach. But, wait, what's this?_

_Quite the interesting past... what strength it took you to live with your relatives... and at such a young age, too!  
I could put you in ghost, as well..._

_Ah, and a streak for adventure, what with escaping by experimenting with your newfound powers and sneaking on a boat to Canada... hmm... you could also go in Phoenix, if you'd like to._

_Oh, but there's more! Look at the diligence you showed, teaching yourself magic from such a young age, you could be in Griffin, developing your powers so thoroughly, I don't think I've ever seen that before- don't worry, I won't tell._

_You could even be in Centaur, yes, with Lola! You're leadership skills, and your undying loyalty to those who respect you, your desire to belong... you'd fit quite well there, too..._

_hmm, decisions, decisions..._

_Do you have a preference?_

Harry did not have a preference. He just wanted to be where he belonged.

_No preference, eh? Well, with such a unique combination, no wonder you can't decide. All right, then, I'll pick. Better be..._

"THESTRAL!"

Harry opened his eyes and grinned. He was _everything! _And he would be with other people who were just like him: completely different!

Excited, Harry jumped up from the seat and tried not to run to his new, purple table. He wasn't sure, but as he got closer, Harry wondered if the Thestrals were cheering just a _little _louder than everyone else had been cheered for?

Harry pushed that thought out of his mind. Excitement coursed through him, he couldn't help it, he ran to the table, the table full of people that he belonged to.

Once sorting was finished, Headmaster Jaque had said a few more words (and by a few, of course he meant a few thousand) and then the feast began.

It was a magical feast, which meant that the food appeared on the tables without being served and no matter how many people took, it never ran out.

Harry ate and ate and ate, he wasn't even that hungry, but the food must have been made magically delicious or something.

Harry didn't even know what most of it was, growing up with the Dursleys and in orphanages hadn't exactly widened his gourmet knowledge. But he enjoyed it nonetheless, and even though he couldn't critique it, he gave it five stars.

After the meal, all of the food got replaced with dessert, and even though Harry felt as though he would explode if he even breathed in more air, he ate and ate and ate.

Him and Aaron (who had also been sorted in Thestral) had shared what must have been a gazillion exploding snaps, and now both of their pockets were stuffed to the brim and heavy with magical treats and toys, and there were a few more white mice to add to the school's rodent population.

They ate cakes which changed flavour halfway through each bite, and they never repeated no matter how much cake you had.

They ate cookies that changed the colours of their faces, and they both stopped when they got to purple.

They drank butterbeer until they no longer could, and they washed it down with hot cocoa that added whatever toppings you asked it to.

They found room in their pockets for bags of Every Flavour Jellybeans, boxes of Chocolate Frogs, Crystallized Fruits, more Exploding Snaps, Never-Ending Drinking Mugs, which never ran out of drink and instantly filled themselves with whatever you asked them to, Colour-Changing Cookies, and much more, so much more.

When the feast was finally over, to Harry's tongue's horror and his stomach's delight, him and Aaron followed their new Prefect, Randy Tyson, to their dormitories.

Each house dormitory had it's own tower to do whatever it wanted with, and the Thestral's was in the southwest corner, which Harry thought was the best place to be.

According to their Prefect, from the top of the dormitory you could see the quidditch pitch, from ground level you could see into the colourful forest from one side, and the forbidden forest from the other, and the basement was _underneath the lake.__  
_

Not to mention, the southwest corner was just far enough away from the rest of the school that it wasn't crowded or noisy without a silencer charm, but not too far away to be out of the way of everything, and a pain to get to.

Harry and Aaron walked excitedly together, trying to get as close to the front as possible of the group.

It didn't really matter, though, because the Thestrals seemed to be the smallest house out of the six, and there were only seven new members who needed to be guided by the prefect, including Harry and Aaron.

When they finally got to the dormitory, Harry thought he was going to faint from the pure awesomeness of it.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note: Hey everyone, sorry, but this is going to be a reaaally long, descriptive chapter. It's about 2,000 words and it's entirely a description of the Thestrals dormitory. You don't have to read the whole thing, but some of the information might come up again later.**

When they arrived at the dormitory's door, Harry could already tell it was going to be a very unique room, true to the house.

The door was purple, and made from a solid chunk of diamond. However, it wasn't clear, because the inside of the door had been painted, so that it looked as though the paintings were on the inside of the diamond. It also made the pictures look 3D.

It was also very big for a door, It was more like four doors, two doors wide and two doors stacked.

The door had a purple background, with metallic golden decorations.

In the very centre of the door there was a giant golden outline of a thestral, with even the most minute details, so that it looked like both a drawing and a real picture.

The thestral had been enchanted so that the painting's wings moved, and the head turned to look at you when you passed.

Apparently, the thestral painting had a visual copy of every house member, and if someone who wasn't from that house tried to get in without someone who was from the house there, it would spray vinegar into your eyes.

There was also a complicated border around the edge of the door that created a border around the thestral.

Harry tried to figure out what it was, but it moved and changed, so its pattern was ever-changing, and apparently, the same pattern never occurred more than once a century.

The door didn't require a password, all you had to do was stand in front of the door for a second and then nod your head yes once, to say that yes, you did want to open the door.

If you shook your head no, in case an intruder tried to force you to open the door for them, the door would swallow you without opening and the intruder would get sprayed in the eyes with vinegar. It would also instantly alert the Headmaster and the Head of House.

Once inside the dorm, the first floor had been magically expanded, so that it was almost the same size as the Main Hall.

The walls were a deep purple, and the floor was a shaggy lavender carpet. The ceiling and the top part of the walls were enchanted to look like the sky and was always either a setting sun or a rising sun, spraying the walls in beautiful red, orange, yellow and pink light and creating a beautiful, peaceful setting.

Along the entire right-side wall were purple bookcases, stacked to the ceiling with books of all kind.

On the back wall, the one directly across from the doorway, was a huge fireplace that always had a fire going, warming the room to exactly the right temperature.

The fire was magicked so that it felt like a different temperature to each individual person, depending on how hot or cool they wanted the room to be.

Above the dark stone mantle were labelled portraits of all of the famous/accomplished wizards who had come from Thestral house.

The portraits, of course, moved and talked, so if you couldn't find anyone to talk to they were always friendly and certainly very interesting.

Assembled around the fireplace and bookshelves were comfortable-looking couches and chairs in different shades of purple.

The chairs and couches were assembled so that you could have a conversation with anyone who was sitting on any other chair or couch, but were also angled just right so that if you were reading or doing homework you would be secluded.

There were ravens flying around freely, as the Thestral dorm had its own BirdHouse, so they didn't need to use the school's like some of the other houses, but the ceiling was so big that the birds were barely noticeable.

There was soft, wordless jazz music playing throughout the room, which added to the feeling of quiet serenity, as well as originality. After all, who thinks to play jazz music in a common room?

The left wall was completely a window, but apparently it was impossible to see in from the outside, only outside from in.

The lack of a wall let in enough natural light during the day that it didn't feel weird coming in to a sunset in the afternoon, but the reddish glow was still always there.

However, at night, it was the perfect thing to see before cozying up in a new place, surrounded by new people, to begin a new life.

Also, on one end of the window, you could see into the colourful forest, and at the other, you could see into the forbidden forest.

In the left corner by the front was a winding staircase that went through the ceiling to all the floors above. Unlike most of the other dormitories, there were other actual floors other than the bedrooms.

Prefect Randy took all seven first years on a tour to all of these floors.

When they got on the stairs, instead of walking up them, Randy simply said "Up," and the stairs began to move, twisting upwards in a spiral until they got to the first landing.

When the stairs stopped, there was a single door with the inscription _First Years Dorm Room_

They didn't go in, but apparently all of the rooms changed size depending on how many people there were that year, so there was always exactly the right amount of beds.

There was also a divider wall that separated the boys' and girls' beds, but they would see all of that later.

They kept going up, skipping the Dorm Rooms years two and three, but when they got to the fourth floor they stopped and stepped off of the stairs.

The fourth floor, it turned out, was a well-stocked library that would make any Dragon drool with jealousy!

The walls were, of course, purple, but they were so light they were almost white. The floor was light, shiny softwood and the ceiling was painted like a sky, with moving portraits of ravens and hippogriffs pulling carriages full of laughing children.

Apparently, there were no post birds allowed on this floor, except for one house-wide raven that delivered mail to people in the library. Birds were considered a noisy distraction when trying to study, but just one who was rarely even there hardly made a difference.

The library was well-lighted by windows all around the room that always shined in the perfect amount of sunlight, even at night or on a rainy day. The windows were too high up to give much scenery, so they weren't at all distracting.

All four walls were covered in bookshelves, and there were rows of them lined up with small spaces in between to allow people to get through.

The only space not covered with books was the very centre and the space in front of the stairs leading to the centre.

The space there had a giant table, with dividers and chairs so that lots of people could have their own working space without being distracted by the people around them.

Apparently, each divider had a silencer charm on it so that no sound other than your own could be heard while sitting in the chair, and no one browsing the library or sitting in a different chair could hear you.

This also prevented talking while working, keeping you focused.

Then, the purple stairs moved on, past the fourth, fifth and sixth dorm rooms.

On the ninth floor, there was another room. It had purple walls and a purple ceiling, the walls not light but not dark, and the ceiling a few shades darker than lavender. The floor was a light, softwood floor, but it was darker than the floor of the library.

The room had no windows and was empty except for the three walls that weren't the wall with the door on it.

The other three walls were lined with what looked like target dummies in the shapes of people, each holding one of those pointed sticks Harry kept seeing in one hand.

This room had a door, unlike the library, which was always open and kept quiet with a silencer charm, and the door was the same colour as the walls.

Randy had opened the door and stood in front of it before anyone could read the inscription on it and asked if anyone could guess what this room was for.

No one could, so Randy closed the door again so they could see.

_Duelling Practice Room_ the door said.

Aaron asked what a Duelling Practice Room was for. Randy said that once they started classes, they would start learning charms and spells that they could use in a duel, to fight and protect themselves.

This room was a practice room where you could practice what you learned with your friends or on a dummy.

Harry and Aaron thought this was insanely cool.

After that was the seventh year dorm room, the prefect room, which was for prefects only, and then the Balcony.

The Balcony was a grand room, the same size as the common room on the first floor, which had been huge.

Technically, all the rooms were that size, but the library had looked smaller due to all of the bookshelves and the Duelling Room hadn't been that impressive.

But the thing about the Balcony was that it was designed to look big.

Three of the Balcony's walls were completely windows, and there were chairs and couches all over, but still enough space for a good two hundred people to stand.

There were banners hanging all around the room, from the ceiling, on the walls, even painted onto the floor, and there was a bucket full of flags by the door with the same golden thestral that was on the door, wings beating and everything.

From the Balcony, you could see almost the entire outside of the school, except for the front where the hippogriffs had taken them from the train.

According to Randy, these windows were also one-way, but the difference was that they could be opened, spread out along the side so that you could watch Quidditch games right from the dormitory.

The balcony was even eye-level with the goals, so the thestrals had a better view of the game from there than anyone else in the school did from the stands around the field.

Professor Brown had already told Harry about Quidditch, and had said that he should definitely sign up, what with his natural broom skills, but Aaron had never heard of it, so Harry explained to him the basics and promised to show him his broom later.

When they were finished looking at the balcony, Randy took them back to the stairs and promised that was only one more floor.

The top floor was the BirdHouse, and it was huge.

It was dark right then, because it was nighttime, but even in the dim light it looked huge. It was circular and tall, so tall that Harry wondered how he hadn't noticed this from the outside.

He remembered a second later that all of the floors were magicked, obviously, so they were bigger on the inside than they were on the outside.

The BirdHouse was made especially big, so that the birds would all have space to fly around and be free.

It had a special roof that only let in light, and ravens with a special collar on their foot.

Everyone was then given a collar and told to go find their bird. Harry found Henrietta quickly, as she was the only grey bird there.

He put the purple band around her left leg and whispered to her that now she could go outside whenever she wanted. Henrietta seemed to understand, and flew outside as if to make sure that it was true.

Harry was worried for a second once he lost sight of her, but he knew that Henrietta would be okay.

Finally, after everyone had found their birds and collared them, the tour was over.

Harry, Aaron, and the rest of the first years took the stairs back down to the second floor to see their new bedroom for the very first time.


	21. Chapter 21

Harry stood in the basement, surrounded by his five new friends.

The basement was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the same size as the Main Hall, and had a big stone platform that ran from wall to wall.

The ceiling, as promised, had a magnificent view of the lake.

The entire thing, as well as the top third of the walls all the way around, were completely glass, showing off the lake's brightly coloured fish as well as less brightly coloured merpeople.

The rest of the walls were covered in stone, which were similar to the same reflective stones that the outside of the castle was made of, only these ones only reflected different shades of purple.

However, the range of shades was so great that it seemed like no stone was the same colour, and the overall effect of ripples or movement stayed the same.

The floor and the podium, however, were made of rough, simple stone that was dark grey, with little bits of moss growing out from between the cracks for effect.

Seaweed and giant conch shells hung from the walls as well, and all of these decorations combined with the distorted light coming from the ceiling, the whole room felt as if it were underwater, which Harry supposed, it was.

Standing on the platform were seven students, though much older than Harry, and one teacher, who Harry couldn't identify but recognized as a teacher because of the black robes they all wore.

Harry instantly recognized one of the students on the stage as Randy, but the rest he didn't recognize.

He assumed that they were the rest of the Prefects, because they were all wearing silver badges on their lapels, only one girl had another gold badge pinned on top of her silver one.

Harry would have kept looking around, but Aaron turned to him and Edris then, the boy Harry had met upstairs while unpacking, saying, "C'mon. Let's go meet the rest of our house."

Edris was an awkward boy, who was tall and lanky with stringy brown hair cut _just _a bit too short, with teeth that were _just _a bit too forward.

However, he was very sweet, however strangely he came across as, and he had a wicked sense of humour that caught Harry off guard.

Edris nodded his head to Aaron _just _a bit too exuberantly, and the three walked to the centre of the room to meet the others.

By 6:15, six purple first years were standing in a circle, conversing easily as they got to know each other a little better.

By now, Harry knew everyone's names, as well as a bit of their personalities.

There was Isaiah Spivey, an average-tall boy with loose blond hair, relaxed, friendly blue eyes and pale red lips that were always turned up in a self-assured smile.

Both his posture and personality suggested calm, cool and collected, and he oozed of confidence. However, he wasn't arrogant or egotistical, if a little cocky at times, but he never put himself above anybody either.

Harry figured he also would have done well in Phoenix, as his self-confidence lent him an air of bravery and curiosity that came with adventure.

There was also a short, energetic girl named Azzie Trujilio. She was the girl Harry had noticed a few times with hair that constantly, randomly changed colour, a bit like the school itself.

Azzie was a metamorphmagus, and she had perfect control over everything but her hair, which changed colour with her thoughts unless she focused on keeping it one colour.

The rest of her usually stayed as pale, round-faced and big-eyed, with warm, watery brown eyes and big, full, constantly smiling lips.

Azzie was very bouncy and a little ADHD, Harry noticed, but like Edris, her intentions were always sweet, if a little brash sometimes, and she was sharp as a whip when she focused, which was rarely, but Harry felt like she was more aware than she let on.

The last girl was named Pearlina, and she gave no last name. Pearlina was just shorter than Harry but much thinner.

She had pale blue hair that was so light it was almost white, and matched her eyes, which were big and frightful. She was thin and bony, and her robes, though she wasn't too short, drowned her. Her skin was also a very gentle purple.

Pearlina explained that she was a half-ghost, which had confused even the wizard-borns.

When Pearlina's mother was pregnant, she had died, but she was so close to giving birth that Pearlina had been born anyway.

She had been raised by her father and her ghost mother until he went insane from having a half-dead daughter and a fully-dead wife, and she had ended her time as a ghost from the grief of what her family had become.

After that, Pearlina had been raised in a magical orphanage, but it was immensely overcrowded. The lack of attention had led to her being shy, quiet and malnourished, but loyal, kind and generous to those who treated her with respect.

Harry could already see that she was warming up to the group, as her pinkish-purple lips had widened into larger and larger smiles.

So the group stood in the middle of the basement at 6:15 monday morning, ready for the first day's meeting to begin.

The first years were discussing their new dorm rooms, and complaining about the early mornings.

They had all been woken up by their prefects at 5:00 that morning, had been briefed on how life was going to work in Thestral, and had been given about an hour to unpack and organize.

Apparently, all Thestrals were complied to be up and out of their dorm rooms by 6:00 every day, except on weekends when that was extended to 7:00.

If you weren't up by then, the thestrals on the walls, which were golden paintings enchanted to fly along the walls and ceiling and play with each other, would scream until you left the room.

Apparently, it wasn't pleasant. The rooms themselves, however, had been exceedingly gorgeous.

It was a dim room with no windows, but enough light to see well. The walls were dark royal, and the ceiling was the exact same shade, but the floor was a shaggy, slightly lighter fuzzy carpet.

The walls and ceiling were decorated with, as aforementioned, golden enchanted thestrals, which gave off a soft glow as they moved and added a soft, magical light that covered the room.

The beds were gorgeous as well. They were big, queen sized at least, Harry thought, with thick silk comforters and pillows, and slightly furry sheets that felt like the shaggy carpet.

There were also blanket warmers and feet warmers that hung above each bed, always ready for use, and one shelf on the wall directly above the bed space for personal belongings, and golden paint directly underneath each one that read the time.

For privacy, there were thick, velvet, royal purple curtains hung around each bed, and marked space for each trunk to go in directly outside the beds that even provided a bedside table.

There were two magnificent bathrooms. one on each side of the huge dividing wall that went straight down the middle of the room.

On one side of the wall there were four beds, and an arrow pointing from the wall to that side that read BOYS. On the other, there were three beds and a sign on the wall that read GIRLS.

The wall was enchanted, to everyone's amazement, so that when a girl or boy was in their side of the room, another wall with a door sealed off that section behind them, to give privacy, but when they left and the room was empty, it stayed open.

After they had unpacked, Randy had told the first years to go down to the basement, which was a flight below the common room, for a first years meeting.

Most of the first years were there by now, but they seemed to be missing one.

Just then, a youngish-looking girl with straight, flow-y brown hair, a light dusting of freckles, light hazel eyes, that were wide and nervous looking, and thin, pale lips rushed in.

Her robes billowed behind her as she tripped off of the steps and rushed towards the rest of the group, her face turning red when she noticed she was late.

Harry smiled at her to ease her evident tension, cuing Aaron to wave and Isaiah to yell out a cool hello.

When the girl realized she wasn't going to be scolded, her shoulders dropped with ease and she waltzed over to the group, saying hello back.

She was introducing herself as Penny, when the teacher, who by now Harry had realized was the head of house, stepped up to the stage and smiled, saying how pleased he was that they were all getting along and settling in before launching into his opening speech, which was quite boring.

Harry stood on the stairs as they wound upwards, fingering the new golden fringe on his beige robes, now laced with purple.

After the speech their Head of House had given, whose name Harry had learned was Professor Shackleford, the Prefects had all introduced themselves.

Harry had learned that the prefect with the golden badge was actually the Head Girl, and the Head Boy was in Griffin.

Then, the Prefects had given out embellishments for the robes, and apparently had magicked them all onto all of their other robes as well.

As it turned out, each house had a minor colour as well. There were three minor colours, which were gold, silver and bronze, so two houses shared each colour.

Thestral and Ghost, the white house, shared gold, Griffin and Dragon, the blue and green houses, shared silver, and Phoenix and Centaur, the red and yellow houses, shared bronze.

So now, Harry's robes were royal purple silk on the inside, and beige on the outside, only with golden fringe and two purple stripes, one on each side on the outside until about the arm.

He had also been given a standard, brown leather satchel that seemed to be made all out of one piece and closed at the top with a button.

Inside of his satchel, as well as everyone else's, were their new purple scarves, which had thin golden stripes, gloves, which consisted of one solid purple one and one solid gold one per pair, and purple beanie hats, which had a golden rim.

There was also Harry's new schedule, and a quill set with a bottle of black ink.

So now, Harry nervously set off to his first class, which was wand-making, on the third floor with Azzie.

It seemed that all of the first years had wand-making first period, even if they were in different classrooms, but after that they split up randomly.

Harry and Azzie walked to the third floor, but both paused for a moment in front of the huge marble door for a second before pushing it open and walking into their first-ever wizarding class.


	22. Chapter 22

Harry, Azzie, Zach and John sat at a table near the middle of the classroom but closer to the back as they waited for their teacher to arrive.

Harry had been glad to see Zach again, who was now dressed in blue, and had introduced him to Azzie, who Zach immediately took a liking to after watching her perfectly imitate his face.

Zach had then introduced them to John, who he had met before the sorting on the train. Harry remembered John as being the first to be sorted, and his dark hair stood out against his white beanie, which had a golden stripe near the top.

They were discussing what they thought they were going to be doing, exactly, when a harried-looking professor walked in, with frizzy hair and billowing robes.

He stood at the front of the room and smiled, though, looking out at all of the young faces.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to your first-ever class at Hollow's. My name is Professor Knudson, and I am so excited to teach you this year! This class is necessary for all of your other classes, as here you will first make your wand, then learn to bond with it and control its magic.

Without a wand, magic is impossible, so welcome to the class that makes the impossible, possible!"

Harry smiled for more than one reason, one of them being that he could make the impossible possible without a wand, and the other being that he could make it possible at all.

The teacher babbled on with his introductions, trying to make wand history sound interesting and going over the course outline for the year.

Harry wasn't really paying all too much attention, though Zach was taking copious notes, which Harry supposed he could snag a copy of later from him.

However, Harry perked up when Professor Knudson said, "So, that's enough chitchat! Everyone, please pick up the knives in front of you so we can get to making you your very own wands!"

As he said this, knives materialized on the tables in front of the students, who looked at each other in amazement and excitement.

Harry and Azzie shared a grin, and even John, who was very shy, gave a smile. Zach was busy putting away his parchment, but it was so harried that Harry new he was excited as well.

Once everyone had grabbed a knife, Professor Knudson smiled and began to explain how this was going to work.

"To make a wand, there needs to be a connection between the person and the wand, a magical connection that cannot be broken. In most countries, they achieve a connection by simply picking a wand until one works for them, one just _feels _right.

However, at Oldes Hollow, you make your own wand using your subconscious mind and magic, making the wand truly unique to you, truly made for _you, _so that not only will your magic be as strong as possible, but it will also be impossible for another wizard to use your wand, whether they steal it or even get your permission.

To make this happen, however, you cannot use conscious thought.

What that means is that I will make this room completely blacked-out, so that your subconscious magic has to do all of the work.

I tell you this so that you can please not panic when you can no longer see. I will still be able to see you in case something goes wrong, which has never happened before, so please don't worry.

So, students, is everyone ready?"

The students nodded and murmured, although everyone was a little frightened now, not least Harry.

Harry wasn't as scared about the light issue as he was worried about the "spiritual connection."

Harry had never needed a wand before to do magic, so what if his subconscious didn't make him a wand? Then, not only would his secret be revealed, but he would also be considered a fraud; an outcast.

He had just begun to think he was fitting in, too. Harry's heart began beating, and it felt so hard that he was afraid that his friends could feel it by sitting nest to him.

Then all of a sudden the lights went out.

The hall was dead silent. Nobody could think, let alone think, at the intense, complete darkness surrounding them.

It was so dark that Harry couldn't breathe. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, along with a faint ringing sound, and his entire face felt flushed in fright.

Harry felt like all of his senses had turned off. All he could feel was his own body, which was completely still.

The darkness was beginning to fell hopeless when suddenly Harry's fingers twitched, and began to dance on the table strangely.

Harry had no idea what his hands were doing, as he couldn't feel anything, but suddenly he rose and his feet began to guide him somewhere.

Even though Harry had no idea what was going on, he relaxed. His subconscious was not going to fail him.

When the lights came back on, Harry went into shock for a second as his brain began to get used to having sight, sound, smell, touch and taste back again.

When he got used to it again, though, Harry realized he was gripping something in his hand. He looked down to see the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on, not because of how it looked but because it was his, and it felt like a part of his soul.

The wand was long, about 13 and 3/4 inches, he assumed, since that was how it felt, and felt firm and un-bendy in his hand, but seemed quite flexible at the top.

The wand was medium-light at the top and quite dark at the bottom, which was wrapped in leather that was shaped in just the right places for it to be a perfect, comfortable finger grip for Harry. Just at the top of the base was a separating band that was jet-black, but then lighter towards the top, as though it were made of two different woods.

The wand's body looked slightly worn, though strong, and was completely covered in etched designs, which Harry recognized to be his own symbols that he had made long ago.

When Harry had lived with the First Nations, they had taught him that everyone has their own language written within themselves.

Harry had "found" this language whenever he did magic, and had noticed that symbols appeared in his head like letters in a sentence every time he did a spell.

He had realized that his magic and his language were connected somehow, but he hadn't realized that the connection ran this deep.

The symbols, though, however confusing, were gorgeous, and added a mysterious quality to the wand that drew Harry in.

Harry finally tore his eyes away from his new wand and went back to his table (as he was standing off to the side of the room) to join his friends and compare wands.

Zach's wand was long, thin and light, with a single thin strip of leather wrapped in a complex pattern all the way around his wand.

John's was smooth and dark, shorter than Harry's and Zach's but slightly weightier, and completely plain except for one tiny, sparkling emerald in the very centre of both sides.

Azzie's was almost as complex as Harry's. It was so smooth it shined in the light, but patterns slightly darker than the wood itself that seemed to be a part of the wood swirled around the wand.

The base was actually carved into the shapes of Azzie's fingers, and the whole thing was so bendy that it almost acted as rubber, swaying lightly with every movement.

It seemed to twitch in excitement being in Azzie's grasp, though that could have just been Azzie, being her usual hyperactive self.

As the four were admiring each other's wands, Professor Knudson came over and held all four, which lay on the table anonymously, one by one.

First he picked up Zach's. The professor seemed to "feel" the wand for a second before smiling and saying, "This is a beautiful wand. It is made of the finest Pear wood with a Dragon Heartstring core.

The owner of this wand must be highly intelligent with a thirst to learn and a powerful ability. They are also friendly and have a good sense of humour, and highly unlikely to turn to the Dark Arts. Whose wand is this?"

Zach smiled proudly and took back his wand. The professor gave him an equally friendly smile and picked up the next wand, which was Azzie's.

"Hmm," he said, pausing and thinking, and Harry noticed a look of disheartenment on Azzie's face.

After a few seconds, Professor Knudson, surprisingly enough, gave a hearty laugh, eyes twinkling as they opened.

"I would love to get to better know the owner of this wand. It is made from Dogwood, with a rare Phoenix Feather core, an excellent combination.

Dogwood is known to be the most playful, mischievous wand wood, and its owner has a great sense of humour and a good sense of fun. Many dogwood owners are pranksters and tricksters, though it is always meant in good fun, rarely if ever Dark.

The Phoenix Feather core suggests a knack for complex, unique magic, so this owner must be full of surprises. Whose is this?"

Azzie, grinning as the rest of the table laughed at the wand's accuracy, took her wand from the professor's hand.

The professor went for the next wand, which was John's.

"Ah, a very powerful wand, indeed," the professor spoke quietly.

"Yew is an exceptionally talented wand, giving the user the power of life and death. Paired with a Unicorn Tail Hair core, this wand owner possesses incredible strength, and are set firm in their ways.

This wand can do great things, of both Light and Dark magic. The owner of this wand is more capable than he or she thinks, with talents unknown to itself until it the needed moment arises, and in the meantime quite shy and timid. It is an honour to be in possession of this wand, and it belongs to...?"

John smiled, his eyes slightly confused and worried with the power he apparently possessed, as he took his wand.

The professor turned to Harry, saying, "Well then, I suppose we all know whose wand this is, hmm?"

Harry smiled timidly as Professor Knudson picked up Harry's wand. And promptly dropped it onto the table in what appeared to be shock.

"...Harry Potter..." He murmured, staring at the wand.

"Harry, do you know how you did this?"

Harry, confused, surprised, and scared, shook his head, eyes wide and heart beating.

The professor sighed. "I didn't think so. Neither do I, Harry.

You wand is the only wand I have ever seen with not one, but five types of wood, all bonded together perfectly.

A wand is always well bonded in its parts, so obviously yours is meant to be this way, but it is unheard of and slightly terrifying, especially with such a powerful past you already posses.

Harry, will you come with me, please."

Harry nodded and grabbed his wand, shaking slightly.

Azzie, Zach and John all looked worried, but Harry realized that they weren't frightened of him. They were looking at the _teacher _with worry, which Harry interpreted as them being worried as what he was going to do _to Harry, _not what Harry was going to do to them.

Harry was touched at how much his friends cared for him, so he did his best to look confident and gave his friends a small smile and shrug, as if to say, _Oh, well. I'll be fine, I'm just glad it's not you._

His friends seemed to understand. John gave a tiny smile, Zach waved nervously and gave Harry a shaky thumbs-up, and Azzie transformed into Professor Knudson, crossed her eyes, and made her forehead write _KOOK _out of freckles.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at her ridiculousness, and as soon as he did, she instantly transformed back, as the real Professor Knudson came back from the centre of the room to announce that the rest of the students had free time, to ask what Harry what was so funny.

Harry, instantly sobered, shrugged and followed the professor out of the room.


	23. Chapter 23

Harry stood in the Headmaster's office nervously, fingering his wand with one hand and his robes with the other.

It figured that he would be the one with the strange wand, Harry thought to himself.

Why couldn't his subconscious magic be a little simpler, like everyone else's?

As he though about it, however, he realized something: Harry liked being different, and more powerful than everyone else. He just hated being singled out for it.

As Harry was thinking, avoiding Professor Knudson's gaze, he heard a familiar voice coming from above him.

He looked up to see Headmaster Jaque sitting on his broom on the ceiling, which was quite high, waving down at him.

"Ah, hello, Harry, Professor Knudson! What brings you to my office today?" He spoke with a slight french accent, which Harry filed away in case he needed to suck up with his french later.

Professor Knudson looked up, and said quite seriously, "Mr. Potter has five different types of wood in his wand."

The Headmaster's face, though not as serious as the professor's, did become wrinkled and confused.

He floated down before sitting as his desk, saying, "Oh, please sit, Harry. You too, Professor Knudson."

The two pulled up some chairs and sat on the other end of Headmaster Jaque's desk, which was gold, sparkling and spotlessly empty.

"May I please see your wand, Mr. Potter?" The Headmaster asked kindly, and Harry pulled it out and handed it to Jaque.

Headmaster Jaque gasped in what seemed like awe. "This is a beautiful wand, Mr. Potter," he whispered breathlessly.

Harry agreed. He thought that the etchings almost gave his wand a soft glow, as though the magic was ready to spring out from inside at any second.

"What types of wood were used, Professor Knudson?" The headmaster continued, turning the wand in his fingers as he continued to look at it, taking it in.

Harry felt his fingers twitch, he wanted to reach out and grab back his wand! It was his, it felt like his, and even though Harry realized how snobbish he sounded, it felt as though the Headmaster was violating his privacy.

As he restrained himself from assaulting the Headmaster, however, the wand twitched in time to Harry's fingers, before suddenly leaping out of the Headmaster's hands, to his surprise, and right into Harry's.

A shocked smile grew over Headmaster Jaque's face, while just shock appeared over Knudson's.

"The wand types are... are, um, Beech, Vine, Sycamore, Ebony, an-and Fir," Knudson finally spat out, seemingly scared of Harry, which made him mad.

Harry didn't want people to fear him, as he had no intention of hurting people, yet, anyways.

He knew he was powerful, and he knew that everyone else knew he was powerful as well, because of his surviving Voldemort's killing curse, but he didn't plan on abusing his power. He just wanted to learn how to use it.

He would never be able to, though, if people ran from him every time he did something magnificent, which he had thought the school thrived to produce.

"Mmm," said the Headmaster softly. Then he seemed to decide something in his head.

"Professor Knudson, would you please return to your classroom? There are still fifteen minutes left of first period, and we cannot leave first years who have just gotten their wands unattended, eh?"

He smiled friendlily at Knudson, who smiled back a bit worriedly, nodded, and rushed off.

Headmaster Jaque's face then turned more serious, his eyes, however, still friendly, and said to Harry, "Harry, you need to know about the depth this wand gives you, the power, among other things.

You already know that it is more than uncommon to have more than one wood type in a wand, and how powerful you must be to have such a strong connection to your wand already that it jumps back to your hand subconsciously.

However, what you don't know are two very important things: what it all means, and that there are actually six types of wood in your wand, not five.

Harry, what Professor Knudson didn't detect in your wand, that not many will be able to detect, is that there is also Elder wood in your wand, as well as Beech, Vine, Sycamore, Ebony, and Fir, with a Phoenix Tail Feather core.

Now that you know all of this, let me give you your wand's meaning, which I am sure your Professor failed to mention.

Fir is often referred to as the survivor's wand, as it has sold to multiple famous wizards who have lived through mortal peril.

It comes from the most resilient of trees, and its owner must be strong as well to control such a wand.

Ebony belongs to wizards with a sense of self-confidence, who know that they are powerful enough to control such a wand.

It has been in the hands of many famous wizards, both Light and Dark, and is highly individualistic, as is its owner. You must be very creative to own such a wand, as well as an excellent dueller in combat.

Sycamore is a powerful, curious, unique wand, that needs a powerful, innovative wizard controlling it to avoid having it explode in their faces.

Sycamore is the only known wand that will self-destruct if the wizard is too boring, never doing unique spells or adopting their own magical personality.

However, when a Sycamore wand's wizard is curious and adventurous, the wand will show a capacity to learn and conform to all kinds of intense, complicated magic easily, and it can easily become one of the most powerful wands.

Vine is a wood for the mysterious. It is often paired with those who have a mission; a higher purpose or power to carry out. These wand's owners are almost always very diligent in their goals, be it magical or otherwise.

Vine wand's wizards are also known for being complex, and always surprising those who think they know them best.

And Elder. Elder is the rarest wood of all, and there have been few previous records of a wizard with such a wand.

It is thought to be unlucky; not because the magic is bad but because those who posses it usually come from scarring backgrounds, full of pain and hardship.

The Elder wand is the most difficult to control, but once mastered the most powerful. It is said that an Elder wand in the hands of the right wizard can easily beat any other wand.

Because of its owner's background, an Elder wand is fiercely protective of its owner, and will sometimes do magic of its own accord if it thinks someone is trying to harm the wizard.

People who own Elder wands are generally in possession of them because they have a certain destiny, full of pain and hardship, but one that is necessary.

So you see, Harry, why Professor Knudson was worried, and we haven't even touched on how much more powerful all six of these woods happen to become when paired with a Phoenix Feather core."


	24. Chapter 24

Harry walked to his second period class alone, as he hadn't had enough time to return to wand-making class and join the others.

He was on his way to Charms, and although he was excited, he was deep in thought.

Harry had thought that if he could escape his past, he would have a brighter future, but apparently, his wand thought otherwise.

And yet, his wand was also immensely powerful, an excellent match for Harry's natural power, and Harry couldn't help but be excited by his magnificently beautiful wand every time he touched it.

Maybe, Harry thought, the wand will protect me from as much harm as it will give me, and I will in turn use it as well as I can, and make us both the best that we can be.

Satisfied with that answer, Harry smiled joyfully and walked-ran to class, ready to finally use his wand for the first time.

Harry was overjoyed when he found out that Lola, Aaron, Zach and Pearlina were in Charms with him.

Him and Aaron had quickly introduced Pearlina to Zach and Lola, and the three of them had quickly hit if off.

Harry suspected that the reason they were all so fast was because they were each so excited to show off their new wands.

As it turned out, he was right.

Harry had seen Zach's already, so he didn't pay too much attention to it, but everyone else loved it.

Lola's wand was pale, almost white, and made from Ash, with a Unicorn Tail core, which meant that the wand was intensely loyal, as was she, and was hard to convince to try new things, but it would perform well and diligently once you convinced it to try a new spell.

The wand itself was gorgeous. With its already pale colour, which made it stand out, it was covered in a delicate, flowery vine pattern, which were incredibly realistic for wood and curled and intertwined complicatedly.

Aaron's wand was shorter than everyone else's, but it was looped and curved before straightening out for accurate spell-casting at the top.

It was dark and shiny, and was somehow covered in spots and speckled.

Aaron could not remember what type of wood it was, but he knew that he had a Dragon Heartstring core.

Pearlina's wand had the same fragile beauty as she did.

It was a long, pale, wooden yellow, fragile looking, graceful piece of art, and was apparently made from Willow, with a Unicorn Hair core.

The wand was supposedly excellent for healing, and it only responded to those with a soft, gentle touch and a kind heart. It was also more likely to bond with a wizard who was somewhat insecure, though they tried to hide it.

Harry had noticed that this was correct, as Pearlina covered her insecurities of being half-ghost and living with her past by being quiet and trying to fade into the background.

However, the wand was able to unlock a wizard full of secrets and hidden, complex powers that they didn't even know about, and apparently there was some sort of saying about how wizards with willow went the further than most, or something.

The only wand that people weren't sure how to react to, was of course, Harry's own.

His friends were too true to be jealous of it, they said, but they were confused as to why it had happened, and they became a bit worried when they found out that it meant he would have a hard life.

Pearlina even promised to use her ghostly powers to protect him him as much as she could, which Harry found touching, yet terrifying.

Apparently, Pearlina was going to tune in extra close on his life energy from now on, so if he ever got hurt or was near death, she would know.

Harry's eyes began to water at his new friends' compassion for him, at which point Aaron pulled him into a big group hug.

They all laughed and hugged until the class began.

Harry and his friends had great fun during their first Charms class.

The five of them had turned out to all be quite talented at Charms, and they had learned many spells by the end of the class, and as they walked out together, they practiced levitating each other's scarves right off of their necks, laughing and playing as the rest of the class foolishly practiced the correct movements needed, not even knowing the correct words to say.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Lola cried, pointing at Harry's beanie hat. Harry felt his hair getting pulled slightly as his purple cap rose off his head.

They all laughed, and Harry, for revenge, pointed at Lola's wand and recited the same spell.

Lola's decorative wand rose out of hand, just beyond her reach as she laughed and jumped at it, but every time she got close, Harry maneuvered it sideways or up, just out of her grasp.

Harry especially was quite advanced at this spell, as he had already taught himself the wordless, wandless version when he was 7. The others, of course, had no idea that this was why, but where impressed all the same.

When Lola finally cried, "Give it back, Harry!" Harry dropped it right into her palm, and him, Pearlina and Zach separated from Lola and Aaron to head into their next class, which was transfiguration.

Harry sat on the colourful grass, leaning against the reflective stone wall of the castle as he ate, surrounded by the best friends he had ever had, and he had only known most of them for a day.

Sitting on either sides of him were Aaron and Pearlina, and going around the circle from Aaron there was Zach, John, Azzie, Lola, Edris, Isaiah, Zach's new friends Paul and Andrew from Dragon, and Bella, who was from Phoenix, and two of Lola's new friends from Centaur named Hailey and Jack.

The fourteen of them were sitting in a huge circle and getting to know each other, eating and chatting and showing off what they had learned and sharing notes and joking about teachers.

Harry was glad that students were allowed to eat at any table, or not even in the Main Hall at all, hence them being outside. The food itself was served in the Main Hall, but unless there was some important announcement, they were allowed to take their food wherever they wanted, as long as plated were returned by the end of the meal.

The only meal that had to be eaten inside at your own table was breakfast, and that was just to make sure that everyone was up.

So, even though Harry was pretty chilly, and had his robes wrapped tightly around himself, he was the happiest he had ever been, surrounded by friends that liked him for who he was, and he to them right back.

"I bet you I can float my feather higher than your feather," Bella challenged bravely to Andrew, who was quick to pull out his feather and his wand.

"Is that a challenge? You're on!"

The rest of them cheered and yelled, "Higher! Higher!" to the feathers, not picking sides, as both Bella's and Andrew's feathers rose slowly, higher and higher.

When they were about fifteen feet in the air, at almost the exact same height, both feathers dropped, with Bella and Andrew finally losing focus and energy.

Zach turned to Harry. "So, Harry, who won?"

"Yeah, Harry, who?" joked Lola with a sly smile, evidently glad it wasn't her who had to decide.

"C'mon, Harry, we're friends, right? Just say I won," Andrew joked, obviously not caring if he actually had won or not, just trying to loosen Harry up for the decision.

"Mm, sorry Andrew, but I think that one has to go to Bella," Harry decided with a half-apologetic, half-joking look.

Andrew slapped his forehead as he grinned and laughed. "I thought we were friends, Harry! I can't believe you betrayed me like that!" Andrew moaned, shaking his head and waggling his wand at Harry.

Then the group smiled and laughed, and soon they walked towards the kitchens to return their plates before next class, which started at 12:30.

Harry's next class was History of Magic, which he was very excited for, even if no one else was.

As it was, Harry had been wondering about his history, and his magic's history, for years, and now he finally had the chance.

He was less excited, though, when he found out that none of his friends were in that class with him. He would have to go in alone.

When he got to History of Magic class, Harry looked for an empty table, which there was one of off to the side of the classroom and near the back, and Harry sat there.

He was waiting for the class to start when about five other kids sat down at his table, though.

Two of them were in the green house, which Harry remembered to be Griffin. One was wearing yellow, from Phoenix, one was wearing red, from Centaur, and one was in blue, from Dragon.

As they sat down at the table, Harry smiled at them and said, "Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Harry."

The girl in green replied with, "Hi, I'm Vanessa. Vanessa Hogstein," she finished, smiling. She seemed nice, and she had wavy brown hair and bright blue eyes, and her cheeks were slightly rosy.

The boy from Centaur said, "Nice to meet you, I'm Bret. Bret Skivvey. This is Aidan," he said, jabbing his thumb over to the boy from Griffin, who waved shyly but said nothing. "Aidan's a mute, so he can't talk, but he can hear. If you say something to him I'll translate until you can learn sign language."

_Oh, I know sign language already, _Harry smiled as he spoke with his hands, _so that shouldn't be a problem._

Aidan smiled happily and asked him, _Where did you learn sign language? I've never met anyone except Bret who speaks sign, and he's my twin brother, so he has to know it._

_You two are brothers? _Harry asked, looking at Bret, where he now noticed the similarities.

_Well, we're not identical twins, which is why we aren't both mute, but yeah, we're brothers._

"Oh," said Harry, and smiled.

The last girl, who was from Dragon, said, "You both speak sign language?! You have to teach me, I've been wanting to learn it forever!" She exclaimed, grinning. "Oh, and I'm Rose, by the way. Rose Petals."

Harry did a double take. "Your name is Rose Petals?" he asked incredulously, a smile growing on his face.

She smiled, too, "Yeah, I don't really know what my parents were thinking, but hey, it's a great conversation starter, right?"

Harry laughed, as did the rest of table. Even Aidan's shoulders shook silently.

And so Harry was no longer alone in his History of Magic class.

At the end of History of Magic, the six of them stood and walked out together, chatting.

Harry, Aidan, Vanessa and Rose had been intensely focused the entire class, but Bret and Ainsley, which was the girl from Phoenix's name, weren't quite as into the whole memorizing useless facts thing, and had joked around all class.

Now at the end of class, the other four had finally joined in, and they laughed and threw crumpled pieces of parchment at each other as they walked down the hallway to herbology.

Apparently, all the first years had herbology together, as there was only one teacher and one greenhouse, but not enough periods for all the different years to have separate classes.

Harry was very happy with this setup, as it meant that he was going to have an entire period with all of his friends.

As he was walking to the Greenhouse with his new friends, he saw Aaron, Lola and Pearlina also heading there.

Harry smiled. "Hey guys, watch this," he whispered to his friends, shushing them.

Harry raised his wand, pointed it at the three hats, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

To his and his friends delight, Aaron's, Lola's and Pearlina's hats slowly rose off of their heads.

Aaron and Lola looked around, terrified and confused, but Pearlina looked right at Harry's group and laughed silently, instantly understanding what was going on.

When Harry noticed this, and his friends giggled behind him, he dropped Pearlina's hat back onto her head as Lola was turning in her direction.

Though he couldn't hear them from where he was, he saw Lola, and then Aaron, asking Pearlina why she had her hat on, and what he assumed was how she had raised theirs without a wand or spell, and to give them back.

Pearlina just smiled and pointed at Harry, who laughed and waved with his friends as Aaron and Lola got the joke, and began to laugh as well.

Harry dropped their hats back on and led his new friends over to introduce them to his other friends, who instantly hit it off with each other. Harry and his nine new friends walked to herbology.

Harry decided that he did not like herbology, oh sorry, Herbology, as the teacher had needlessly stressed, but he did like being with his friends and he was very good at the subject.

His friends thought that he was just naturally talented at everything, but really Harry had simply had past experience with plants and herbs with his time with the first nations.

However, he didn't tell this to his friends, and simply let them say whatever they wanted. He would tell them about hid past when he was ready, and that might not be for a long time.

After Herbolgy was Care and Keeping of Magical Creatures, though, which more than made up for the boring Herbology lesson.

Seamus taught it, which automatically made Harry smile, as Seamus was so sweet and happy that he must have a fun course planned, Harry thought. And he was right.

In Care of Magical Creatures, which Harry had with Aidan, Azzie, John, Rose, Lola, and Bella, a complete mix, Harry noticed, Seamus was already entrusting them with live creatures.

Seamus had spent half of the lesson teaching them the basics of Care and Keeping, and had given them homework to read and take notes (at least three feet of parchment, point form) until Chapter 5 of their textbook, which was quite long.

Then, he had taken them to the FarmHouse, which was where all of the school's domestic Beasts were found, and had let them each had a turn petting and feeding a Hippogriff, much to Harry's delight.

At the end of the lesson, Seamus had given them more homework, which was a Puffskein each to take care of for the rest of the year. They would be graded on the Puffskeins' health and happiness just before Christmas Break, Easter Break and Final Examinations.

A Puffskein, it turned out, was a giant lump of fur about the size of a soccer ball, Harry eyeballed, and was extremely easy to care for.

It would eat almost anything, as it was an omnivore, but would even eat garbage without a second thought. It did not mind being thrown around or coddled, and was even sometimes used as a substitute Bludger or Quaffle in Quidditch when one went missing.

It was very friendly and the one Harry received licked his hand before setting down in the crook of Harry's arm. Harry knew that it would not be much work to care for his Puffskein, but he would treat it as well as he could anyway.

Harry tucked his Puffskein into his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked with the others to the same place he had eaten lunch at, which was where his friends had decided would be their meeting spot.

As Harry sat on the cool, colourful grass, surrounded by his friends and playing with his Puffskein, he decided that he was very glad to have a fifteen minute break in between sixth period and seventh.

Harry and his friends were sitting in an even huger circle than lunchtime, as it had grown enormously. He couldn't even remember everyone's names right now, and there was at least five people from each house, which meant that Harry now had more than thirty friends.

"So what are you going to name your Puffskein, Harry?" Aaron asked, holding his new Puffskein up from his class for everyone to see. "Mine's name is Aaron Junior," He smiled proudly, bringing the warm fluff-ball down to his face so he could cuddle it.

Harry pondered this for a second. "I think I'll name mine Arnold," he decided, looking down at the newly christened puffskein.

Everyone laughed, but kindly. "Why Arnold?" Vanessa asked, giggling. Harry shrugged, and grinned for a second. "I dunno. He just _feels _like an Arnold."

"Well, I just _feel_ like you're really weird," joked Josh, a boy from Phoenix who was kind with a slightly mean sense of humour, but everyone knew he never meant it.

Everyone laughed, including Harry, and the group continued naming everyone's Puffskeins until the break was over and they went inside for their last three classes.

Harry had never been happier than he was now, holding Arnold under one arm and his wand in the other, with a very heavy, homework-filled bag slung over his shoulder, surrounded by friends who laughed and joked _with _him, and not _at _him, for the first time in his life.

Harry finally belonged.


	25. Chapter 25

Harry's next class was Duelling, which he was very excited for.

He couldn't wait to test his magic on other people, to see who was strongest and who was the quickest, who knew the most spells and who learned each other's styles better.

He shook with excitement as him, Zach, Aaron, Azzie and Vanessa walked into the classroom together.

The Duelling Room was very similar to the Thestral's, only the walls weren't purple and there were more dummies, as well as instructional posters around the room and a bookshelf in one corner full of combat spell books.

After their new Duelling Professor, Professor Jensen, had introduced himself, the course, how to duel, and some basic combat spells, he had paired off the first years and told them to practice duelling with each other.

Harry and Azzie had been paired off, and they talked as they duelled.

"Expelliarmus!" Azzie cried, pointing her wand at Harry's.

"Protego!" Harry replied, easily blocking the spell. "So, what did you have today? Pretificus Totalus!"

"Oh, I can barely even remember - Protego! - I had wand-making and charms, of course - Accio Wand! - and then DADA, then lunch... jeez, I have to think already to remember!" Azzie said, her hair changing lightning fast as she let her reflexes take over.

"Cool," Harry replied, wand hand waving out more spells at the same time.

"Protego! I had Transfiguration after Charms - Aguamenti! - how was Defence Against the Dark Arts? Also, stop using spells to try and get rid of my wand, they're too predictable and easy to block. You'll be more successful with attack spells."

Azzie looked at him weirdly. "How do you knoAUGhpffhfiff!"

Harry smiled triumphantly as his water jet hit her squarely in the face. "I think I just proved how." He transfigured a small piece of parchment into a small towel and passed it to her.

Azzie caught it deftly and smiled back. "You're really good, Harry. How do you have so much natural talent for all this magic?"

Harry shrugged. "If I knew, I'd be using it to much more of an advantage now. It probably has something to do with how I blocked Voldemort's spell and accidentally completely weakened him of all of his powers. I think I was just born with that destiny or something."

"Even your wand says that, but your wand is also the most powerful wand in existence. You must have some destiny planned out, Harry, and I promise I'm gonna stick by you for the whole thing. You of all people don't deserve it,"

Harry's eyes stung with tears of gratitude again. "Thanks, Azzie. I'll stick by you forever, too. Promise."

Azzie smiled thinly. "I know you will. That's why I promised."

Harry pointed his wand at her and said, "Accio Azzie," so he could give her a big hug.

After Duelling, all of the first years had Flying Control and Practise, which Harry knew Professor Brown taught.

Harry was excited, as he hadn't seen Professor Brown since he had dropped Harry off at the train.

When he got there, he waved at Professor Brown, who waved back and smiled.

"Harry! Sorry we haven't spoken for a few days now! It's been a busy year!"

Harry grinned. "That's alright, Professor, it's not like I went looking for you either,"

The professor laughed. "Love you too, Harry. Anyway, I'm so excited to have you in this class. You've already shown me your natural talent for Flying, so I've decided to move you up if you're willing to take the exam next week. What do you say?"

Harry was shocked. Skip a grade? Well, if he could learn more, he supposed, and if Professor Brown thought Harry already knew everything in this course, well then, sure, he would take the exam.

"Alright. What time?"

Professor Brown grinned. "Oh, we'll just do it next monday during this class. That way you don't miss any class time or, Merlin forbid, free time."

Harry grinned back. "Perfect. See you then."

Harry was sitting on his Firebolt 2000, about fifty feet in the air, happily spinning and doing flips and generally showing off to his friends and teacher.

Aaron was flying next to Harry, as he was also pretty good at flying, especially for another muggle-born.

The two of them were flying around, trying to flip and spin without falling, when Aaron decided to spice things up a bit.

He pulled a small ball out of his pocket, and threw it at Harry's face, yelling, "Catch!"

Harry reached up reflexively to catch the ball, which he did, but at the same time he lost his balance by rearing both hands back.

Harry flipped over on his broom, hanging by his pressed-together knees, swinging upside down.

Even though he was terrified, Harry didn't panic. He reached for his wand, and then realized that he had left it on the ground.

_Then _he panicked.

"HALP!" Harry cried, trying not to wiggle in case his super-sensitive broom responded to the movement.

"HARRY!" Aaron screamed, sounding even more panicked than Harry felt.

"Aaron!" Harry yelled back, trying to calm down even as he slowly went dizzy from the blood rushing to his head.

"Fly back down and get someone to help me!"

"But what if you fall!"

"I'll be fine! Just GO!"

And with that, Aaron rushed off as fast as he possibly could to get Professor Brown.

Now that Harry was alone in the air, he knew what he had to do. Harry called back the runes in his mind that he used when he did wandless magic, and once he had the right spell he levitated himself upright and held himself there while he waited for his head to stop spinning.

"HARRY! Are you alright?"

"Harry! What happened? Are you okay? Harry?!"

Harry heard both Aaron and Professor Brown calling him, but he was too dizzy and shocked to respond.

Doing wandless magic took more energy than he had thought, and his world still spun from hanging upside-down for so long, not to mention his knees hurt.

He swooped accidentally on his broom from the exhaustion and dizziness, and fell of his broom.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Professor Brown racing towards him, hands outstretched.

Harry awoke on the grass, which was purple, but turning blue, on his back.

His head still hurt a little, but much less now, and he wasn't nearly as dizzy.

When they noticed he was awake, Aaron, Azzie, Lola, Zach, John, Pearlina, Vanessa, Aidan, Bret, Bella, and Rose crowded themselves around him, shoving each other out of the way with worry.

"Harry, are you okay?"

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Harry, I'm so sorry!"

"Hey, what happened anyways, Harry?"

"Can you still talk?"

It was an accident, Harry! I'm sorry!"

"Are you in pain, Harry?"

"Guys, do you think he's in pain?"

"Harry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"Should we take him to the Hospital Room?"

"Do you think he'll have to go to the real hospital?"

"HARRY! Please wake up, I'm sorry, it was accident, I can't believe I almost killed you already, Harry, please!"

Harry cleared his throat and put his hands over his eyes to block out the light.

"Aaron, it's okay, I'm fine, just stop screaming, all of you, please!" Harry mumbled, head pounding from the noise.

"HARRY!" Eleven worried voices cried simultaneously, obviously relieved.

Harry smiled. "Now, who wants to help me up?"

As Harry walked with Lola, John, Bella, Rose and Pearlina to Defence Against the Dark Arts, he thought about how lucky he was that Professor Brown was still letting him take the exam.

Harry had almost laughed out loud when the professor had even complimented his fall, saying that no one he had seen had ever caught themselves, hung there, then hoisted themselves back up before on their brooms.

Even the seventh years always fell off almost immediately.

So Professor Brown had scheduled their exam and given Harry the review outline to study for, as well as an offer for after-school tutoring at some point before the exam for hands-on practice.

Harry excitedly went to his next class, ready for whatever else this school could throw at him.


	26. Chapter 26

When Harry walked into the DADA class, he felt a strange sense of belonging.

Even though Harry had been excelling in all of his previous subjects, he had a feeling that he was going to do especially well in this class.

He wondered why, and decided finally that it was because of his past in defending himself against dark things, like the Dursleys, or the most powerful dark wizard of all time.

Harry pulled out his wand and got ready for class.

Inside the classroom itself, Harry looked around.

It was huge, possibly even bigger than the Duelling Room, and more complex. Off to one side of the room were boxes and cages, each heavily locked and bolted, and sturdily secured to the wall.

Some were shaking.

At the end of the room, opposite from the door where Harry was standing, were enormous bookshelves and instructional posters on the wall, as well as individual and grouped desks with ink pots and quills on them.

On the other side of the room were practice dummies, which didn't surprise Harry, although these ones seemed a little more... ready to fight and harder to take down than all of the other ones he had seen.

But the main attraction was in the very centre of the room.

It went from almost wall to wall, with steps at either end. Complex decorations covered the entire thing, and it had a decent width, about ten feet, Harry guessed.

The stage/bar/divider/undecided mass was about as high as Harry was, as well, so that it could be easy to see what happened on top.

Just then, a professor stepped up onto the what Harry had to decided to call a stage.

Harry recognized him as his Head of House, but could not for the life of him remember his name. He had been too busy introducing himself to Ariel when the professor had announced himself.

"Hello, first years," the professor spoke quietly, but firmly, as though he already knew that he had everyone's attention. "My name is Professor Snape, and I will be you Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year.

This class will be your most challenging class, if it is not, I will make it.

Defence Against the Dark Arts is the most vital class to excel in, to challenge yourself in, to do well in. Without it, you are defenceless, and cannot protect yourself or your loved ones in times of great need.

You may be thinking to yourself, why would I need to protect myself?

If you are, you are foolish, as well as stupid.

The greatest Dark Lord of all times is returning. He will soon, if not this year, then in the next five, rise once again to power.

This Dark Lord is the one that gave you nightmares as a child, the one that you cannot even say his name, but give the synonym He-who-must-not-be-named.

He is Voldemort, and from now on, if I hear any of you calling him He-who-must-not-be-named, you will receive a week of detention.

You are only adding to your fear, and therefore weakness, by hiding behind a false name.

Do I make myself clear?"

The first years nodded and mumbled, not sure how to react to this man, who was overbearing without even raising his voice to the normal level of speaking.

Professor Snape continued.

"Good. And if anyone needs further proof of how powerful he is, you may speak to Mr. Potter. He is standing right there, and I would not cross him if I were you,"

Everyone turned to look at Harry, who flushed in embarrassment and anger.

There was no reason for the professor to call him out like that! All it did was make people jealous of his power and make them think that he was going to get special treatment from the professor.

There was only one thing to do, now, though. He refused to pity himself. At the end of the lesson he would confront Professor Snape and make him fix what he had done.

After the Professor was finally finished his diminishing speech, the lesson itself was not bad at all, though it was as difficult as promised.

They had duelled, they had practiced spells, they had learned history, they had even ran laps around the room, which was not easy, as it was huge.

It looked as though there was going to be a bit of everything in this class, and the homework load Professor Snape had given them seemed to second that notion.

Harry couldn't even remember it all, he had had to write down a list of what the professor had listed for him to do.

_Memorize and master the seven basic spells of attack combat, and prepare an oral presentation_

_Read up to Chapter Nine in textbook, and take notes (at least four and a half feet)_

_Write a report on the history of Duelling_

_Research one basic non-verbal spell and learn it, as well as write a two-foot long report on its history_

And that was on top of all of his other homework.

Harry sighed in submission. Whatever Professor Brown had told him about how the workload was not as hard as it seemed was quickly being proven wrong.

When the lesson finally ended, Harry was sweating with exhaustion from the work both his mind and body had been put through.

However, he couldn't leave yet, as he still had to confront Professor Snape, and at the very least make him apologize.

"Harry, are you coming back to the common room?" Asked Pearlina, who was in DADA with him.

"Go ahead," Harry replied, wiping his brow, "I'll meet you there. I just have to finish something up quickly."

And with that, he turned and marched to the corner of the room where Professor Snape was standing, which was right by all of the cages.

Harry had hoped to avoid those. Oh well.

When Harry got to Professor Snape, however, he suddenly felt nervous. The Professor had a terrifying sense of power that came with all of the knowledge he held, as though he had already read and memorized a book of what you were thinking about, and a book of counter-curses for your thoughts.

"Um, excuse me, Sir," Harry spat out.

Snape turned sharply around, with one raised brow.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Harry felt a sudden surge of rage at the calm, yet bored sense Snape portrayed. He made it seem as though Harry was a pesky fly that he had to deal with before moving on to more important matters.

The anger he suddenly felt was what gave him the courage (or stupidity) to continue.

"Why did you call me out in front of the entire class like that? Now everyone is going to think that I'm stuck up, and already better at everything than them anyway! No one is going to like me, or respect me! You just made me about fifty enemies! Why would you - "

Snape sneered, though the smile did not reach his eyes, which were dark and deep, like a black hole.

"Oh, can little Potter not take the pressure? Do you want your mother? You want to go crying to someone else to fix things so you can have your perfect little life back again?"

"My life was never perfect! How dare you - "

"LISTEN. If you wanted people to like and respect you, you would be thanking me right now, not whining and complaining like a stuck-up brat.

People were never going to notice the quiet boy in the background, especially not in this class, where I push everyone so hard they have no time to notice anyone else.

Now, though, now they know, and will remember that you are powerful, that you have at least a basic idea of what you're doing. So they will watch you more closely, when they are lost, or when they need someone to help them.

They will follow your lead, thanks to _me. _So now you have to prove that you are as good as your past highlights you to be, or else they will know you to be weak and stupid, a lucky survivor. Your precious name will be flawed.

If you want people to like you, though, all you have to do is follow my lead. I marked you a path to follow, and if you follow it, many others will take your path as well.

So stop whining and go do your homework. I have other things to worry about other than a spoiled, famous little boy who is too weak to deal with his own problems. Now get out of here."

Harry was boiling mad as he left the DADA room and headed back to his dormitories.

However, along the long walk, as he had time to cool down, he realized regretfully that even though Professor Snape was rude and arrogant and disrespectful, he was right, he had helped Harry even if he had made things harder.

In the long run, Harry would be more respected and more advanced, and he would be better off because of it, even if it was painful right now.

Harry wondered what else in this school was more than what met the eye, as he decided to at least tolerate Professor Snape for now.

When Harry entered his common room, he was totally calm again, all of his previous anger dissipated from the walk.

He kept it in mind to take a walk whenever his temper fired up, as Merlin knew he had one.

Harry walked over to a solitary chair by the fireplace and sat down, letting his heavy bag fall to the floor.

Then he pulled out Arnold and leaned back into the chair, trying to fall into a deep, heavy calmness and clear his thoughts.

This lasted for about a minute and a half before he heard running footsteps getting louder until someone began furiously shaking him.

Harry's eyes jolted open to see a very worried Aaron crying, "Harry! Please don't be mad at me! I promise it was an accident - "

Harry was confused for a second. "What are you - " Then he remembered the incident from Flying class today.

"Oh, jeez, Aaron, don't worry about the whole broom incident. I told you I'm fine," Harry smiled, "But can you please stop shaking me now?"

Aaron, looking relieved and slightly confused, pulled back his arm. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"But if you weren't avoiding me, then where were you? It's already fifteen minutes into Free Hour,"

"It is?" Harry asked incredulously. It had only felt like a few minutes. "Sorry, I just got back. I was talking to Professor Snape about something I was confused about in class."

Aaron looked incredibly relieved, like a huge weight had just been lifted off of him.

"Oh, okay then. Good. I thought you were still mad at me! You could have asked us for help, though. We're all in the library doing homework. Wanna join?"

"Sure," Harry smiled, getting up from his chair.

"I'll meet you there as soon as I put Arnold away."

"Great! But you might want to hurry, there's a ton of homework, especially in DADA, and who knows what we'll get in potions tomorrow as well!"

And with that, Aaron hurried off up the winding stairs, leaving Harry to grab his bag and head to their dorm room.

Forty-five minutes later, Harry's mind was exhausted.

He was nowhere near finished his homework, nor were his friends, but it was already dinner.

Luckily for Harry, he had taken a hint from Professor Snape's class and written down all of his homework before he started, but some of his friends had already forgotten what they were supposed to be doing.

Harry's list went like this:

_Practice Wingardium Leviosa, Accio, Avifors, Confundus, and Engorgio_

_Write two foot long paper on why charms are important_

_Read Charms textbook to Chapter 3 and take notes_

_Practice transfigurating a feather into a bird, a cup into a box, a chair into a table, and a leaf into a plant. Supplies are available in the Transfiguration Room_

_Read Transfiguration textbook (Vol 1) until Chapter 6 and take notes (at least 3 feet)_

_Memorize and master the seven basic spells of attack combat, and prepare an oral presentation_

_Read up to Chapter Nine in textbook, and take notes (at least four and a half feet)_

_Write a report on the history of Duelling (five feet)_

_Research one basic non-verbal spell and learn it, as well as write a two-foot long report on its history_

_Write a small essay (three feet) on magic in medieval times_

_Read Oldes Hollow, A History until Chapter 4_

_Read Herbology textbook until Chapter 5 and take notes (two feet)_

_Write report on the basics of keeping for Devil's Snare, as well as protecting yourself from it and counter-spells to get rid of it (three and a half feet)_

_Care for Arnold_

_Read textbook until Chapter 5 and take point form notes (three feet)_

_Master Duelling Spells taught in Class (Protego, Aguamenti, Expelliarmus, Pretificus Totalus, Stupefy, Conjunctevitis, and Ennervate)_

_Read entire Quidditch/Flying textbooks and learn/memorize/practice everything for the exam_

Harry walked to dinner with his friends, putting away all of the textbooks he had needed in his bag, as well as all of the parchment and his quill and ink pot, utterly exhausted.

"Hey, guys, can we just stay in tonight? I'm too tired to go outside and hang around so many people, plus I just need to eat quickly and finish my homework, and then I need to get a copy of the rulebook. I think they're giving them out on the second - "

"Harry, don't worry," replied Azzie, looking more subdues than usual, but still bouncing around, smiling, and changing the colour of her hair rapidly, "We're all too tired to go out. I don't think any of the first years will do much during dinner or Free Time after dinner until we get used to the workload."

Aaron, Edris and Penny, the last girl in Thestral, agreed, but Pearlina and Isaiah weren't so sure.

"You guys can stay at the table, but I already promised some friends in Phoenix that we would eat together in their common room and chill. Sorry," he finished apologetically, though Harry wondered if he was really sorry.

Isaiah, as nice as he was, seemed like a bit of a social climber.

Pearlina wasn't planning on ditching her fellow Thestral first years, she explained that she just didn't tire out as easily because her heart rate was much slower, which gave her more energy over long periods of time.

So five exhausted Thestrals ate their dinner in silence over a purple table until dinner was about halfway done, then went back to their common room to finish their homework.


	27. Chapter 27

By the time dinner was over, at about 7:00, Harry was finished most of his homework, as he had done almost everything that required writing before dinner, and had written his notes and essays during dinner, and reading wasn't very challenging, so he finished all of his required reading quickly back in the common room.

Harry put away his books, and, seeing all of his friends still writing furiously, decided to fix up his bed area and organize his stuff in his room.

When Harry got to his room, though, he realized that there wasn't a lot of stuff to organize.

Harry had only unpacked everything this morning, which seemed like days ago already, so everything was still pretty tidy.

He sat on his bed and put away all of his books, putting them on the shelf next to his bed in two neat stacks.

He fed and watered his plant, which hung from the shelf above his bed, and petted its leaves, which it seemed to enjoy, as it glowed.

He fed and played with Arnold, who purred and hummed with happiness, and then set him up a little bed in the bottom of his trunk, where there was just enough space for Arnold to lie comfortably once he put in a soft blanket to line the bottom.

He made his bed perfectly, hoping to take as long as possible, but when he looked at the clock it was only 7:10.

Giving up, Harry decided to go visit Henrietta in the BirdHouse.

Harry had forgotten how dark the BirdHouse was.

Except for the tiny speck of light at the top where the birds could fly out from, there were no lights.

Harry could barely make out individual birds, let alone find his own tiny raven.

"Henrietta?" Harry said cautiously, hoping his raven would respond.

And sure enough, after a couple of seconds, Harry's tiny grey raven flew down from somewhere above and landed lightly on his shoulder, squawking and gently nibbling on his earlobe.

Harry giggled joyfully, and stroked his bird.

For now, at least, he could pretend he was a regular, innocent boy of eleven, not plagued by all of the hardship he had been plagued by.

When Harry played with Henrietta, it brought back memories from a lonely night, long ago, when Harry had sat by a fire, sipping hot cocoa, while another Henrietta had tried to uplift him, for no other reason than to uplift him.

When Harry played with Henrietta, he could forget all of his worries for a while, of the past, that seemed to take joy in making him suffer, of the present, that was riddled with mysteries and homework, and of the future, which was quite scary due to all of the worries he had in the present.

But for now, Harry was just another boy, joyfully playing with his pet, and he felt lighter than he had in a long time.

It gave him hope.

After a while, when Harry had forgotten how long he had been standing there for, he heard the door behind him open.

He turned, not bothering to hide, as he was standing right in the middle of the room, where he was obviously very visible.

"Hey, you!" The person said as they entered, leaving the door open behind them. And then Harry realized that there were actually four someones, all much older than him, it appeared.

Harry wasn't sure whether or not to be frightened.

The boy who had called him seemed friendly enough, though he was not smiling.

The three behind him, however, one girl and two boys, seemed almost drunk in how light and gay they acted.

Actually, thought Harry, maybe they _were _drunk. He could smell grapes.

"What are you doing in here?" The first boy asked, sauntering over to Harry.

"N-nothing," Harry replied, now slightly nervous around obvious underage drinkers. He wondered what other illegal things they did.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing homework?" The boy continued, giving Harry a look.

"I finished it," Harry answered, confused. He could no longer tell what the intentions of the boy were.

"You... _finished _it," They boy returned, putting emphasis on the 'finished'.

"Yes," Harry assured. He was not lying, no matter what the boy thought. He had done all of his homework.

The boy, almost seeming convinced, snorted.

"You do know it's only 7:30,"

"...Yes,"

"How could any first year finish all of their homework by 7:30?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm a fast worker,"

At that, the three drunks laughed. The girl yelled out to the boy, "Come on, Matty. Let him have his fun. Maybe he _did _finish,"

She cackled, as did the other two boys. Then, to Harry's horror, one of the boys grabbed the girl and kissed her, hard, on the mouth.

Harry looked away, disgusted, but he wasn't fast enough to miss them putting their hands down (and up) each other's clothes.

The boy, Matty, apparently, also gave them a disgusted look, though his was more of a _how can you do that in front of a kid? _look.

"C'mon, kid," he said to Harry, "Let's leave these two lovebirds alone."

With that, Matty whistled sharply, and a giant black bird came swooping out of the sky and landed promptly on Matty's outstretched arm.

"Now, let's see if you _really _did your homework."

About a half hour later, Harry and Matty sat on an overstuffed couch, chatting.

Matty had been shocked when Harry had shown him all of his homework, complete and well-completed, and finished before 7:15.

Apparently, no first year ever finished their homework before Curfew, which was at 9:30, before christmas break, which was when everyone started to get used to the load and made study habits that hastened the homework time.

But it seemed like Harry was not only incredibly smart and naturally good at magic, but he had also accidentally created study habits almost instantly that took everyone else almost four months to master.

Once Matty had gotten over all of this, though, him and Harry had started talking and getting to know each other.

Matty was a pretty cool guy. He was a fourth year, so he was three years older than Harry, or fourteen.

He was a beater on the Quidditch team and apparently had made records throughout the school for multiple things, Quidditch among them.

Matty had more friends than anyone else in the school, it seemed. He knew almost everyone who was in third year and up, and was constantly meeting new people even younger.

Harry knew he wasn't bragging, not only because of how down-to-earth he seemed, but also because every person who came through the common room at least said hi to Matty, if they didn't come over for a few minutes to chat and introduce themselves to Harry.

By 8:30, it was not just Harry and Matty sitting and chatting on the couch, but about eight other fourth years as well, all chatting and getting to know Harry.

"No way. You _cannot _set fire to your own hand without burning it yet. I can't even do that!" Said Jack, a fifth year who had straight black hair and deep, dark eyes that were only made less serious by his constant smile.

"Ha! Way to be modest, Jack!" Exclaimed Chelsea Hill, a bright-eyed, blond-haired girl with rosy cheeks who was incredibly smart and mature for her age, despite looking to be not much older than Harry.

"Well, I can," boasted Edgar, the fourth year boy with light brown hair and lighter brown eyes who had previously claimed to be able to do this trick, "Do you guys seriously need me to prove it?"

"Yes!" Harry cried, to the utter delight of all the others, who burst out laughing.

"Oh, come on, guys. I'm muggle-born, remember? I live for this kind of stuff! I feel like I've been missing out!"

"That's because you _have _been missing out," retorted Charles, a smiley fourth year boy with dirty blond hair and deep brown eyes.

"Yeah, it's not my fault you've never seen magic before," continued Edgar, though to Harry's (and everyone's) delight, he readied his wand.

"You're really going to do this?" Hannah asked nervously. Hannah was the serious one of the bunch, though she wasn't a downer in any way.

She was just more cautious by nature, and since she had learned long ago that her friends (and house mates) were all wack-jobs, she had re-focused her energy on arming herself with Healing Spells and general medical knowledge in Herbology and Potions.

Harry figured that this was going to be useful, as Edgar had begun to look nervous as he pointed his wand at his hand.

Nonetheless, though, he followed through, yelling, "Encradoprotegio!" followed by, "Incendio!"

And, true to his word, Edgar lit his hand on fire and held it up for everyone to see.

"Wow!" Exclaimed Harry, a broad, impressed grin filling his face.

Everyone laughed at Harry's reaction.

"Huh, you really _have _never seen magic before, huh," said Charles, and Hannah ruffled Harry's hair affectionately.

"Oh, come on, guys, any of you would have been just as impressed when you were first years," defended Matty, who smiled down at Harry and winked.

Harry tried to wink back, but couldn't, and eventually the group noticed Harry's attempts and laughed again.

Harry couldn't help but laugh a little, too, at his pathetic tries at being discreet, and Matty laughed louder than anyone else.

When Harry finally went to bed that night, he was very happy, surrounded by even more friends who liked him for who he was.

Oldes Hollow was the best thing that had ever happened to Harry.


	28. Chapter 28

For the next two months or so, everything went pretty well.

Harry fell into place quite easily at Oldes Hollow, and before he knew it magic was a routine.

He had passed his Flying Control exam with _*flying* _colours, and so now he took Potions every day instead of every other day revolving with Flying Classes.

This meant that Harry quickly got ahead in Potions, and so by October he had started a tutoring business for the other first years to make some extra money.

Though he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with all of the money he had made, (two Galleons per person per three sessions, twenty-three people, eighteen sessions each, which equalled to 138 Galleons and counting) he liked having a backup storage that wasn't the 50 Galleons he had been given by Professor Brown.

Harry had also taken his own advice, and gotten himself tutors for every subject. However, most of the older students who tutored him were also his friends, and so they did it for free for him.

Harry didn't really need the tutors, but they were helpful to get ahead, and they were company to do his homework and spell-check his essays, which made him more motivated and efficient, and soon Harry was at the top of his class, in every class.

Harry was also quickly becoming the next Matty: he had a ton of friends of all ages, as he spent the days with his first-year friends, and the afternoons and evenings with his older friends while his friends were still finishing their homework.

He had also joined the first-years Quidditch tournament, which was one of the best decisions he had ever made.

Harry loved Quidditch, and was apparently a natural at it, which made him love it even more.

The first-years Quidditch tournament had six teams, and the houses were intermixed. Teams could also trade players depending on who they wanted and needed, and could hold tryouts whenever they wanted to get new players.

Each team practiced once a week after classes, and games were held on Saturdays, the remaining day, and also the only day of the week where there were no classes, so games could go on as long as they needed to.

Harry had started out on the Shooting Stars as a Beater. However, he didn't like beating, and he wasn't very good at it, as he never wanted to hit anyone else with a bludger, so he wasn't an asset.

Then, when he had found out that the Airbags Needed were having tryouts, he quit the Shooting Stars and tried out as a Seeker, which he loved.

Harry had soon risen to the top of the stats in his new position, and after a couple of weeks, had taken over the Airbags as captain, where he led his team to the First Term Semi-Finals.

It was very important for him to win these next couple of games so his team could have the most points by the end of the year.

Each term, there were a series of games that led up to the Semi-Finals, and then the Finals. Though all of the games were worth points and were used for the stats, the Semi-Finals and Finals had huge point values that were added onto the winning team's points that they had scored from all of their other games, and kept all year.

At the end of the year, after the Last Term Finals, the teams with the most points would have an Ultimate Final Round, which would determine who won the cup at the end of the year.

Players on the winning teams often had the most success in making their House's Quidditch Team for the next few years, and doing well on those teams could land you a spot on Oldes Hollow's international team, which played against other schools all over the world, and was a huge deal in the magical community.

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to be a professional Quidditch player or not, but he wanted to keep his options open.

That was why Harry, Vanessa, Lola and Aaron had started the Captain's Corner, which was where all of the team captains and captain wannabes got together and discussed strategy, games and players, even if they were all on different teams. This was also where they made trading deals.

Harry got lots of different opinions about how to train and game strategies, and he also gave his own ideas to everyone else who wanted them. It made the games seem less serious, and more of a fun pass time and opportunity.

Unrelated to Quidditch, though, was Harry's relationship with Professor Snape in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Snape was an amazing teacher, and of this Harry had no doubt in his mind.

Snape covered anything and everything that DADA could cover, even Dark Arts magic.

Snape made them learn about Dark Magic and how it had been used, so that they could see for themselves why it was so terrible to become a Dark Wizard, and not just be told that Dark Magic was bad.

He had even made them brainstorm ways that Dark spells could be used for good purposes, and had taught them a few less powerful dark spells.

This was immensely useful.

It helped them disguise themselves as Dark wizards during the exercises they did when they had been captured and needed to fool the enemy into trusting them.

It helped them defend themselves against more powerful enemies, as Dark spells had more power in combat then Light ones, as that was exactly why they had been designed.

It also helped them learn how much power they had, and showed them why they needed to control it and stay Light.

They did many other things as well, though.

They battled angry, starving, sick or controlled magical animals that were eighty times the size of them.

They ran laps and did physical exercise that they used to outrun the enemy or attack them if they had lost their wands.

They learned about the history of combat and Duelling, and about famous wizards who did great things in wars previous.

They learned a multitude of spells, from attack and defense spells to spells that would build them shelters for overnight battles to mind-reading spells to lying spells to counter-spells, to disguising spells... and the list went on and on.

They learned about future careers that DADA could be used in, such as Aurors, Hit Wizards, Counter-Curses, and more.

They even learned about Healing magic in case they or someone else on their team got hurt and needed medical care.

Harry felt like he could go to the Ministry of Magic and apply as a Hit Wizard now that he was two months into the class.

However, he knew that that wasn't true, as Snape told them daily, calling them miserable maggots and foolish, stupid children and weaklings and boggarts and morons and a multitude of other names and insults that brought back memories from Harry's time with the Dursleys.

However, one on one, Harry could almost-sometime-kinda-sorta get through the cruel, rude persona that Snape projected and caught glimpses if a softer, kinder person.

Snape had even once told Harry that he "might be somewhat more intelligent than he had originally thought."

It wasn't much, but this was Snape he was talking about.

So now, after two months, Harry's life was filled with the average magical problems and accomplishments and worries and joys.

"Hey, Zach, are we studying together during Free Hour?" Vanessa asked during lunch, "Because we have like, seven tests coming up and I need a study-buddy,"

"Okay, that sounds perfect to me," Zach replied, head buried in a book as he chewed, never taking a break from school work as the first term exams grew closer.

Harry smiled at Zach's absent-mindedness while he studied. "Hey, Zach, earth to Zach, is anybody in there?" Lola joked, knocking Zach's head with her fist, which finally got his attention.

"Maybe you should have been a Griffin, Zach," joked Harry.

"Maybe I should have," replied Zach, sticking his tongue out playfully. "Just because your houses don't stress being smart and getting good grades so much, doesn't mean that mine doesn't,"

"I'm in your house, and I don't remember that memo," teased Andrew, who Zach promptly threw a piece of bread out, starting a food fight.

After a few minutes of wasting their food, though, they all got tired and sat back down.

"Hey Vanessa, mind if I join you guys for studying tonight during Free Hour?" Harry asked. He had been looking for someone to study with, he didn't have any studying groups because he did his homework so quickly, but in preparation for the tests he wanted to practice with other people his age who were in his classes.

"Of course I don't mind! You're the smartest kid in the grade, why wouldn't I want you there?" Vanessa smiled teasingly at him, pulling his hat off with a wordless spell.

"Hey! It's too cold out for that!" Harry protested, jerking his hat out of the air and holding it firmly on his head.

"Really? Because it obviously wasn't too cold out when you pulled off mine, Zach's and Pearlina's hats on our way to herbology on the first day," Lola joked, to which Harry stuck his tongue out.

"Speaking of which, where is Pearlina?" Questioned Aaron, looking around. "I mean, she's quiet, but never _this _quiet. She hasn't showed up all lunch,"

_That's so weird, _signed Aidan, which by now everyone understood, as Harry and Bret had taught them all sign language.

_Usually she sits right over there, in between whoever sits against the wall and the next person in the circle, but today there's just an empty space as if she's still there, but she's not._

"That _is _weird," Bret agreed, looking over at the spot. "Hey, Azzie, why didn't you fill in the space?" He then asked Azzie, who was sitting next to the space.

"What space?" returned Azzie, who had not been paying attention as she played a hand game with Rose.

"The one right next to you," Bret said, jerking his chin towards the other side of Azzie where the space was. Azzie looked over at the spot, seeming to just notice that it was empty, and said, "I dunno. I'll move if you want,"

Before anyone could protest that they weren't asking her to move, Azzie scooted over into the empty space, saying, "C'mon, guys, fill in the circle, everyone,"

But right when she got into the space, Azzie's hair turned black and she limply fell over.

"Oh my god!" Rose yelled, rushing towards Azzie to help her up, who was still not moving.

"NO! Wait!" Yelled Harry, stopping Rose right before she entered the circle.

"Obviously someone cursed that spot so no one would sit there," Harry said as calmly as he could.

"So nobody else go into it until we figure out how to remove the curse,"

"Then how are we going to get Azzie out?" Rose cried. "She's probably soaking in Dark magic as we speak! We need to get her out!"

"Don't worry," Harry ordered firmly, "I'll get her out. Now stop panicking before everybody freaks out even more, okay?"

Rose nodded, eyes watering. That made sense, as Rose and Azzie were pretty tight. They had even sanded off tiny pieces of wood from their wands and stuck them on to the other's as a friendship pact.

Harry's mind whirled as he thought of a plan for what to do. "Zach and Aaron, you two are fast runners. Go run to the Hospital Wing and get Madame Fleur out here. Make sure to tell her exactly what happened, okay?"

Aaron nodded, and the two boys ran off, leaving their bags on the ground.

"Lola. Go take Rose and go get Professor Snape. He should know how to un-hex the... whatever this is."

Lola grabbed Rose's arm and dragged her away from Azzie's lifeless body, and the two began running in the opposite direction of the boys to get Professor Snape.

"Vanessa, Aidan, Bret, Isaiah, Penny and Edris," Harry looked at the six people he had called, who were instantly at attention.

"Guard this spot. Make sure no one else goes in it, and answer anybody's who walks by questions simply and without details. If they press you, tell them you don't know, but that Professor Snape is coming to fix things and he'll be here soon. Nobody likes Professor Snape, they should all leave pretty quickly after that. If none of that works, use whatever you have available to get rid of them, even if that means magic. Don't serioiusly hurt anybody, though, or you'll get expelled. Got it?"

"Got it," they answered, and began surrounding it and readying their wands to begin making a barrier.

"Hang on, don't make barriers yet," said Harry. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said, pointing his wand at Azzie.

Azzie began to rise, her head and extremities weakly flopping underneath her. Harry moved her out, and pulled her safely to lean against the wall.

"Everybody else, watch her until Madame Fleur gets here," he comanded, and everyone else who had been eating lunch quickly surrounded Azzie so no one else could see her.

"What about you, Harry?" Isaiah asked.

"As for me," Harry answered grimly, "I'm going to go find Pearlina."


	29. AUTHOR'S APOLOGY Not a real chapter!

**Author's note:**

**Hi everyone! I'm really, really, REALLY sorry I haven't updated in so long! My account broke down, so I had no way of getting in or updating anything or even writing anything for a very long time. I hope you all forgive me and continue to read my story, or at least not hate me completely.**


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